Power Is As Power Does
by Stratusfied247
Summary: Shane and Stephanie McMahon are gearing up for Wrestlemania XXII. They have a plan to take control of the company and the first member of their new regime is going to help them get the most important. TrishBatista, RandyStacy. -COMPLETED-
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimers: I own no one. All WWE superstars and their gimmicks are property of WWE. _**

****

**_December 2005…_**

Trish Stratus had decided long ago that she wasn't going to have anything at all to do with the McMahon family ever again… at least not in the sense of them doing anything for her besides signing her paychecks. Involving herself with any member of that family had never done anything but bring her trouble. If she wanted a life filled with dilemma, she could easily take care of that herself. After all, she'd gotten herself into the mess with Jericho. She was completely capable of getting herself into bad situations.

So, how did she end up in the middle of the biggest clusterfuck to come her way since Christian bought the useless piece of trash known as Tyson Tomko? Lita, of course.

The only person who got her into more trouble than herself, yet less than the McMahon family, was Lita. Nothing that had to do with the redheaded mistress of trash could turn out good. Already, she had brought her accident prone ass back and taken her title. Trish went from six time Women's Champion to somewhere down the line on the number one contender's list. Bischoff had decided to become a goody-two-shoes and put Trish as far away from the title as humanly possible. For once, she had to actually be glad that Shane McMahon approached her.

Of course, the fact that Stephanie was part of the deal was almost enough for her to tell him to kiss her ass. She and Stephanie may not have been bitter enemies anymore, but they were far from being best friends. If anything, they had an agreement. Trish was the Queen of the ring. Stephanie was the Queen of the business side of things. They co-existed because they had more tolerance with one another than before, and because they both realized what they could dominate and didn't encroach on the other's territory. And because Shane threatened to get rid of both of them and find himself new partners if they didn't stop acting like catty teenagers.

That didn't mean, though, that Trish was gung-ho to work with her. She would have been perfectly happy to let Stephanie go on about her business and have absolutely nothing to do with her. Truthfully, she didn't trust her. Stephanie could be flaky as hell when she wanted to be, and Trish certainly didn't want to sit around and wait for Stephanie to decide that she was better off siding with her daddy again. But, Shane assured her that his sister's eyes were opened to the world around her and that she wasn't going to turn on them. No, she always thought, they just both might turn on her eventually.

Trish was shallow, though, and easily bought with gold… championship gold. The return of the McMahon children brought about a new era in World Wrestling Entertainment. One that was steadily expanding. They snubbed Triple H. They started somewhat lower, with the women's division. They garnered themselves a champion, then made it known that they were building a new regime, one that would destroy the current state of being in the company and bring on something that would rival one of the biggest feuds the world had seen in the past few years. With Vince McMahon as close to retirement as possible and their mother's trust, they were on the move to push Eric Bischoff out of power. They were ready to knock Triple H from his pedestal and Ric Flair, well… he would just have to decide where he wanted to go.

And it all started at WrestleMania 22…

"Let me get this straight." Trish stretched out along the seat of the limousine and stared at Stephanie. "You want me to bring you Batista."

"It's not like I'm asking you to do something that you're not good at." Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Not like you have to crawl on tables again or anything."

"Ya know, Steph, for the sake of our little partnership, I'm going to completely ignore that insult and go to the logical part. Batista doesn't like me. No one likes me. I'm too firmly associated with Shane for people to like me."

"That's why you're going to turn on Shane a week before the Rumble."

"And why, exactly, am I going to do that?"

"Because he's going to get too bossy. He's going to get… Brutal. Not too brutal," she was quick to say, "but enough that you're obviously a poor victim in the affair. And like the good guy that he is, Batista is going to rescue you."

"And this helps us how?"

"Because, you're going to use the time between now and WrestleMania to convince the big man that being good doesn't get him very far, and that he needs strong people at his back. He needs us at his back."

The whole thing sounded like bullshit to Trish. It sounded exactly like something that the McMahon family would come up with. Let's manipulate the hell out of some people instead of just going to them and enticing them with exactly what they all wanted. No, they couldn't do that because it would be too much like right. Instead, they had to go all the way around and hope that everything came out right.

"Why can't we just go to Dave and talk him into it? You didn't do this with me. The guy's not an idiot, Steph. He would have taken the deal."

"That would involve him teaming up with Orton and he's not ready for that." Stephanie shrugged. She leaned back against the seat and spread her arms along the seat's back. "We're making manuevers, Trish. It's like a game of chess. We're positioning everybody to the best place to take the Queen. Well… in this case, the King. So… let's make it more like checkers, because the King is virtually useless in chess, which is probably why I like the game so much."

"Steph!" Trish sighed and sat up. She crossed her right leg over her left and groaned. "The point, please?"

"Huh? Yeah… the point." She shook her head. Stephanie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She set her chin against the backs of her hands and smirked. "The point is, we're going to topple Triple H. We're going to topple Bischoff. When we're done, our little regime is going to be running this whole damn place, and you want to be on our side."

"But, during this whole thing, I get the shit end of the deal because I'm not on your side. I'm on Dave's side."

"Trish, when it's over, everybody will be on our side. Everyone that counts, anyway, and you, our seven-time Women's Champion, definitely count."

Trish stared into Stephanie's twinkling blue eyes and had the urge to slap her. She had obviously been studying closely at the feet of Shane McMahon. Vince ordered people around, but Shane manipulated with finesse. Shane said exactly what people wanted to hear to get them on his side, and that's what Stephanie had just done. It was a horrible idea, one that she didn't have much faith in, but to be thought of as one that counts… to be actually in on the whole thing from the start instead of being moved around… to be a knight or bishop as opposed to an insignificant pawn…

"Alright," Trish said with a sigh. "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

**_January 2006, ten days before the Royal Rumble…_**

One thing that could always be counted on… the good guy always came to the aid of a damsel in distress. The Rock had done it for Trish in 2001 after her biggest mistake with the McMahon family. Randy Orton had done it in early 2005 for Stacy Keibler. And here Trish was again, cowering before a male McMahon, backed into a corner, with someone coming to her aid.

It was a scary place to be in. Despite the fact that this was all a plan, she had been dreading the situation since agreeing to it. Despite the fact that after each time, Shane came to her and told her that she had done a good job, told her that she was doing great and it would all be over in a few months, standing there with Shane's face contorted in mock anger just made her remember the humiliation she had to go through with his father. At least this time around, there would be no humiliation. This time, someone would cometo her rescue before it got that far.

Of course, Shane had come to her rescue the last time. Yes, she had still suffered the humiliation, but that, just like this, had been all part of the plan. Before, they were letting Vince think he had the upper hand. This time, they were luring the unsuspecting into their web of deceit and trickery. This time, he would be there before it had to go too far. It all hinged on whether or not Dave Batista took the bait. It depended on whether or not he had really been watching the past few weeks while Shane tormented her, while Stephanie laughed, while both of them berated the champion for messing up.

Trish didn't know anything about Batista other than the fact that he was huge and he was slated to be the next Rock. He was slated to be the next big thing in professional wrestling, and when it was all over, he was going to be a major player. He was going to be part of something so devastating that it put the mess that the Corporation had become to shame. He was going to hold gold. They were all going to hold gold. He was going to be her saving grace… if he ever ran through that curtain.

He wondered just what was going on, and whether or not he wanted to get involved with the McMahon family. The last time any of that bloodline had crossed his path, it hadn't had much to do with him directly. That was Hunter's fight with Vince, and only by association, by Evolution, did it become his. This time… Well, this time it had nothing to do with him, either, but he couldn't just stand by and watch it happen.

He remembered the last time he saw anything even remotely close to it that made him act. Were he not in the middle of his own drama with Evolution, he probably would have gone out to the ring to stop Kane from chokeslamming Trish Stratus. She was a bitch, to be sure, but that didn't mean that she deserved to be ground into the mat. She didn't deserve to be manhandled by a man that hovered over her like a damned giant.

Then there was Stacy Keibler. He was pretty sure that the only reason Randy Orton had gotten his hands on her was because he'd actually been watching when Hunter tried to Pedigree her. Even before he thought to completely leave Evolution, he wouldn't have let that happen. He remembered the grin on Hunter's face when he told the story of what he had done. He had wanted to hit him right then. It was one thing to be an asshole. It was another to be an abusive son of a bitch.

Dave Batista stared into the monitor, watching closely as Shane McMahon backed the Women's Champion into the corner. He watched the fear on Trish's face, the way her body turned in on itself. It was as though she forgot that she had a weapon in her hands. She wasn't going to fight, she was going to stand there and let them destroy her. Why? Because they had made her and they could take it all away. Was it better to be a berated champion than a loser who stood tall? Dave wasn't sure he could answer that question for himself, but by the look on Trish's face, she was going to choose the former.

Without music or unnecessary introduction, Dave Batista broke through the curtain and came sailing towards the ring. The silver hardware of his black leather Gucci moccasins reflected the lights above and the soles slid enough to make his arms wave out to the side to catch his balance. He slid into the ring as Stephanie quickly rolled out. Shane was still berating Trish, too into his torment to realize that someone was behind him. By the time he turned around, Dave's Armani jacket was on the floor, his cuffs were open, the sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows and his shirt was ripped open, either side flapping around him.

Simba, the Giant Slayer came out in Shane. He took a step backward, then rushed forward. He collided with a solid wall and fell to the mat. He crabwalked around, then got back to his feet. Shane started to bounce around, his arms moving as though he were getting ready for a fight. Dave just looked at him like he was getting ready to destroy someone.

Shane ran forward. Stephanie screamed. Trish winced. Dave stepped to the side.

One minute Shane was running, the next, he was being lifted into the air by the back of his shirt. Batista brought the other arm around to grab the front of Shane's shirt. He flattened his hand on Shane's back, then slammed him down hard with a spinebuster. Stephanie started to climb in the ring, but one angry growl from Batista and she slid back out. He picked up Shane, shoved his head between his legs and lifted him. He held him up for a few seconds, then brought him down hard. Batista rolled and jumped to his feet. He watched as Stephanie scurried into the ring and pulled her brother out, then turned to Trish.

She wasn't cowering anymore, but she didn't look as strong and defiant as in the past, either. Dave took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He let the lines of his face fall to reveal a smoother mask, one that wasn't angry at her in particular. He extended his hand towards her and waited. For what, he didn't know, but he knew that instantly grabbing her wasn't going to do much of anything.

Trish looked at the offered appendage, then looked past him to the ramp. Shane and Stephanie were both there, both glaring at her, both screaming at Dave. Vengenace is mine, sayeth the McMahons, she thought. She shook her head and looked back to Dave. His hand was still out. He was still waiting. He was still there.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the corner. She swallowed hard and took his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't think that was such a smart thing to do." Trish turned to the side, away from him. Many people had said that she wasn't the best actress in the world, but now was the time to prove them wrong. She had to play the desperate, innocent, concerned damsel that had just been saved. Though, she thought she had done a pretty impressive acting job in the ring. He had believed that she was in danger, after all.

"Ya know, Trish, you've got one hell of a way to thank a guy."

She sighed and turned back to him. "I'm not ungrateful or anything, I am. I mean, I've had my fair share of McMahon disasters, and I should have known better this time. But… it's gold, Dave, and everyone wants gold."

She wondered if she were jumping to the point too fast. She wasn't planning to break everything to him right then and there, just feel him out a little. She had to know just how badly he wanted Heavyweight gold. She had to know if he'd do anything for it. She had to know where on his totem pole Triple H's title sat and she might as well do that now. On top of that, it would open the door to make him understand why she made her deal with the Devil's spawn.

"We're in this business for two reasons. The attention and the gold. If you say otherwise, I'd have to call you a liar. My gold was ripped from me, Dave, and I wanted it back. Bischoff wasn't giving it to me, so I went to the people who would."

"Shane and Stephanie."

"Exactly." She sighed and her body slumped. "It didn't matter that they wouldn't respect me, because everybody else would. They'd have to because of who I was associated with. That's part of the attention. Respect is nothing but attention, the right kind of attention."

"So, for that, you let Shane treat you like shit. You let Stephanie look down on you even though you know you're better than her."

Trish turned away and fell down on the nearest chair. During the day, the room they were in was office space. At night, when the WWE invaded the territory, it was just an empty room for people to escape. She slid down in the chair and closed her eyes. Part of her speech was true. She did know that the McKids would get her title back to her, but she was respected by them, or at least she saw it that way. They respected her enough to include her in their grand scheme instead of letting her stand by and be used. She was the first one they picked up on their way to conquest. If that wasn't respect, she didn't know what was.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at Dave. He hadn't moved. He still stood in front of her, a few feet away from the door. His shirt was still unbuttoned. His chest was slick and shining with sweat. His pants hung low enough that there was no distraction when her eyes gravitated to his hard stomach and the tattoo that etched his belly button. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

This wasn't about sex, though she had an idea that Stephanie probably thought it would be. She probably figured that Trish would just use her natural sexual ability to wrap any man around her finger with a flash of her underwear, but Trish was hoping that it didn't go that way. If something were to happen with Dave along the way from the time that she was planning to be spending with him, that was one thing. She wouldn't fight it and she wouldn't turn away the chance to touch such a specimen. But, she didn't want sex to be the only resource she had to bring him to their side.

Slowly, her eyes opened again. Trish took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What would you do for gold, Dave?" She sat up a little straighter in the chair, then tugged at the back of her low-riding jeans. "Didn't you stand there with Hunter for months on end while he berated you, called you stupid, blamed you for his losses but never gave you recognition for your help in his wins?"

"That was different."

"How was it different? You and Ric stood there and listened to his crap for months, and Ric's still listening to it. You left because you won the Rumble and he couldn't deny you your shot, and even then, he tried to stop you."

"Hunter…" Dave growled and Trish almost wished she hadn't said anything about Hunter. "He was a means to an end, and in the end, he still screwed me out of my title. The same way he did Orton."

"Don't even talk to me about Orton." She rolled her eyes. "He got kicked out. You left. Randy Orton… he's got his thing going. He's in the race of his life for the IC title, but what about you, huh? He did what he had to do to get ahold of gold. Would you do it, Dave? Would you do anything at all to get your hands on gold? Wouldn't you align yourself with whomever you could to get your hands on that heavyweight title?"

Dave was quiet for a minute. His face went slack as he thought about the question. What would he do? Who would he team up with to make his dreams come true? How far would he go? Everyone had heel in them when it was necessary. Everyone had it in them to turn their backs on someone if the prize at the end was great enough, and in their business, there was no greater prize than the World Heavyweight Gold.

After what felt like an entire pay-per-view, Dave sighed and shook his head. "I gotta go," he said softly. "I've got a match coming up and I've gotta get ready."

"Against Randy Orton."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"For the time being."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Trish sat up then hunched forward. Her elbows dug into her thighs. Her head fell forward and her hair dropped around her face. She stared up at Dave through the thin sheet of blonde and sighed. "It means that McMahons don't forget anything, and they won't forget this."

He started to speak, then changed his mind and sighed. Dave turned and headed out the door. He stopped halfway out the door and turned back towards her. "Yeah," he said, "sometimes, I think I'll do absolutely anything to rip that title out of Triple H's hands." He turned back around and two steps later, the door fell shut behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

The match lasted less than ten minutes, and about three-quarters of it went by before a complete and utter clusterfuck broke out that extended to at least three minutes after the bell was rung.

Batista versus Orton, with Stacy Keibler at ringside. It had been a shock to everyone when Stacy turned heel to go with her boyfriend just weeks before WrestleMania. Apparently, most had forgotten that there was a devilish side to the seemingly fragile woman and it had taken the Legend Killer to bring it back out. Since the emergence of her dark side, she and Randy had been tearing a streak through the Intercontinental division, boring a hole to the competition until Randy was the number one contender.

Facing off that night against Batista had nothing to do with his contendership and everything to do with some McMahon manuevering. Shane and Stephanie couldn't be directly connected to the injury that sidelined the reigning champion until the Royal Rumble, but if someone were to trace back the line that followed the payoff money, somewhere it could possibly be found that the money in Christian's bank account had passed through Stephanie's hands.

Tonight, they wanted to put their plan into action. They had about three months to turn Batista and convince Orton and Stacy that they were better off with them. The two thought they could do it alone, but they wouldn't be able to do anything until they got rid of Eric Bischoff. Shane and Stephanie were still unsure of just who they would put into the spot of General Manager, but that could come later. First and foremost, they had to gain control, and to do that, they needed belts. They needed Batista to win the Rumble. They needed Randy to get the IC belt off of Shelton Benjamin.

Tonight, they needed the clash of what was going to be pro-wrestling titans.

Stacy Keibler running to the side of the ring was the first sign that the match was almost over. Randy was moments away from getting pinned, and while a disqualification would lose them the match, both would rather that be the case than for Randy to actually get pinned. He had spit in Harley Race's face. He'd beaten Mick Foley and Ric Flair. He had retired the Undertaker at WrestleMania XXI. There was no way he was about to get pinned by Dave Batista.

Stacy ran to the side and shoved the timekeeper out of his chair. She snapped the chair shut and ran to the ring. Randy's head was between Dave's legs and it was only moments until the Batista Bomb ended this match. Stacy slid into the ring and slammed the chair into Batista's back. He hunched forward and Stacy hit him in the back again. Randy hit the mat and rolled out of the way just moments before the Animal fell to his knees.

The chair rose again, but this time, it didn't fall. Stacy's hair slapped against her face as she was speared to the side. She fell with Trish Stratus on top of her. Trish jumped up and snatched the chair from her. She waited for Stacy to get to her feet, ready to shove the edge into the woman's stomach. She reared back, and the chair was snatched away from the side. She turned and was able to move to the side just in time to keep from getting hit by Stephanie's swing.

Randy and Shane were putting the boots to Batista as Trish turned to find him, and there was nothing she could do to help him. She was occupied with the blonde and brunette coming her way. In a four-on-two mess, there wasn't much the two could do besides try not to get seriously injured.

Batista fought his way to his feet, swinging wildly. He got lucky and caught Orton in the chest with a hard clothesline. He fell and Batista turned on Shane. The McMahon heir was bouncing side to side, his arms swinging as he ducked Batista's lunges. He stopped too soon and Batista grabbed him. He picked him up to slam him but lurched forward and dropped him as Orton struck from behind. He went down to one knee and they were on him again.

On the other side of the ring, Trish was on the mat. Stacy stepped on her hair as she pulled her up by the arms. She screamed and kicked her feet. Stephanie was standing too close and got a boot to the legs that sent her falling to the mat. Trish threw her body over enough to kick Stacy away from her. She rolled to the side and climbed to her feet.

And then, referees crowded the ring, pulling everyone apart. They separated the women on one side, the men on the other. Trish kicked Earl Hebner in the crotch and as he bent down, jumped over him and ran forward. She climbed over the other refs and started to swinging her arms. She didn't care which one she hit as long as she hit one of the women. They crowded onto Dave and he burst forward like the Hulk. He ran across the ring and started hitting anyone in front of him.

The referees separated them again and once more people surged forward. This time, Shane and Stephanie, Randy and Stacy… They barrelled through the opposition to get to the other side of the ring. They crashed through referees until they made it to Trish and Dave. The entire group fell through the ropes and fell into a fighting mass on the floor. Again they were separated, this time farther apart, with Dave and Trish being definitely pushed towards the ramp.

"You're through, Stratus!" Stephanie pushed against the people holding her, screaming. "We made you, and we can break you!"

"Who needs you!" Shane shouted. "We made one champion, we can make another!"

"At least this one's actually won the top gold!"

Dave surged past referees and they had to grab him quickly before he could get to the other side. "He's never beaten Triple H and he never will!"

"You haven't either!" Randy yelled out.

Stacy struck out at the people in front of her. "You'll go down under the boot heels of the Legend Killer and I'll laugh my ass off!"

"Right after I rip every hair from your head!" Trish called out after her.

The group screamed threats and taunts of violence until Trish and Dave were shoved behind the curtain. The other four were led out on the side of the ramp. The referees wondered how in the hell they were going to keep these people apart for the rest of the night. Eric Bischoff ran out screaming that the McMahons had to leave because they were destroying his show.

Shane, Stephanie and Trish just wondered how they were going to get together again to plan their next step without causing too many questions.


	5. Chapter 5

"Yeah?"

"How's it going?"

"Could be a little better. Did she have to let Keibler yank on my hair like that? I realize you don't have this much hair, but that shit really hurts."

"It had to look good."

"Sure."

"Forget about your hair. When this is all over, I'll personally pay for you day of pampering at the spa of your choice. For right now, though… how's it really going?"

"As well as it could be. After tonight, I think he's definitely on my side. Or our side, as the case may be. It really didn't take too much to get him ready to kick your ass."

"It's a talent, m'dear. I can make any guy hate me."

"Uh huh. What about you? I mean, tempers flared tonight, but after that… Orton's a wild card."

"Orton wants to be a champion, and he'll take it any way he can get it. He's actually a lot like you."

"Why does that neither impress me nor make me happy?"

"Because you don't want to believe that you're just as dirty as the rest of us."

"Maybe. I don't know. I've gotta go, though. Seeing as how my ride hates me now and has probably cancelled my reservations…"

"That's right."

"…I've gotta find a way to the hotel and a place to stay. If we're lucky, I'll get both from the same person and we'll be moving along quite nicely."

Trish flipped her phone shut and looked around. Right about now, Stacy Keibler and Randy Orton were probably laughing it up in the hotel room that, at one time, had been hers. She'd yet to check in, which meant that Stephanie and Shane could do whatever they wanted with the reservation, considering that they were the ones that made it. They probably let Keibler and Orton sit on her seat in the limo, too. If nothing else, they were making it exceedingly easy for Trish to drum up feelings of bitterness and contempt for the two that would, hopefully, one day soon be her partners in crime.

Tonight, though, she had to find a ride. A place to stay wouldn't be as hard as she could let on to be. There was nothing stopping her from getting another room, and it would probably show her supposed independence from the McMahon family, but there was no way she was standing around and waiting for a taxi. Granted, there were probably plenty of people who would give her a ride now that she was aligned with the biggest babyface in the company, but… She didn't want a ride from just anybody.

A shadow fell on her, blocking the light above, and Trish turned her head. Dave leaned against the wall, his shoulder squishing against the concrete. He looked tired, but not beaten. Though his body was weary and drooping, there was still a fire in his eyes that was unmistakable. He was ready to destroy someone, just as soon as his body caught up with his mind. Trish wondered if she should offer him a Red Bull… if she had any, that is.

"Finally leaving, huh?" Trish turned completely towards him, then leaned on the wall. Her hair slid harshly against the cement as she rolled her head upwards to get a better view of him. "You're what… last one out?"

"Got into another fight." He held his sunglasses in his hands. He looked down at the tinted lenses then put them in the pocket of his jacket. "Seems Hunter wanted to get in on the show. He just didn't want to associate with Stephanie or Shane to do it."

"Figures. He always did like to take the easy way out." Trish sighed and shrugged. "So, why are you standing here instead of walking to your car?"

"Because you're standing here." He looked past her, then smirked. "Looks like you're out of a ride."

"Well, how would you ever guess." Trish rolled her eyes. "After tonight, I don't think I'll be riding in limousines anymore."

"No, but we're close enough to D.C. that I still a roll in a Mercedes."

Trish stood up straight and gave him a small grin. "Why, Mr. Batista, is that an offer? Or is it a little bit of fun at my expense? Because if it's an offer, I gladly accept. A ride in a Mercendes is a lot nicer than a ride in a taxi. But, if it's mockery you're handing out, then you're just going to have to find somebody else to get your kicks off of, because I'm not the girl. Not tonight."

Dave stood up slowly, but kept his eyes on her. His face wasn't necessarily blank, but neither was it definitive one way or another. There was a light twinkle in his eyes that could have gone either way. The grin that turned up his lips could have been sincere or mocking. He ran his hand over the top of his head, then pushed back the side of his coat. His hands flittered around his waist for a second, then fell to his sides. He rose one hand and traced the line of hair that led from his lower lip to his chin, then smirked.

He turned and walked off, leaving Trish to stand and stare at him in shock. Was it possible that he was just going to walk off and leave her there? Had she misjudged him that much? She wondered if she'd come on a little too strong. It was possible that she had gone past joking and waded into the waters of standoff-ish.

"Are you coming or what?" She looked up to see Dave turned around, but still walking towards the center of the lot. "I'm not going to wait all night!"

Trish narrowed her eyes, then shook her head and ran after him. This guy… She thought she might have to admit that, just like Evolution had done in the past, she had underestimated him. She wondered if she had to really play so hard to get a ride or, if she hadn't avoided him for the rest of the show, he would have offered in the first place. Something told her that he would have, and that said that she would have to be a little less rigid. She might not have to work quite as hard to get him to see things her way. In fact, it was quite possible that she was right all along and they didn't have to do this in the first place. They probably could have just approached him straight forward. Of course, that would have been too easy and McMahons never did anything easily.

Dave opened the trunk and the two of them just barely fit their things inside. He walked to the side and held the silver door open for her, shutting it when she was inside. He went back to the driver's side and slid in with only minimal resistance. The car was much better suited to his size in the summer, but with the air frigid, he wasn't about to drop the top and freeze all the way to the hotel.

He started the car, then smirked. "You think you still have a room?"

Trish looked to him, then shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not." She shrugged again. "I'll figure it out when we get there. For now, though… I think the ride suffices as a way of putting my night on the right track."


	6. Chapter 6

"You don't have to sleep on the floor, Dave. It is your room, after all."

Trish knelt on the bed and watched as a blanket and pillow were dropped to the floor. She was tired, and more than a little bit annoyed. If Shane and Stephanie were going to start something in the hotel, they should have warned her. She had been expecting the news that her reservation had been cancelled. She had also been expecting the run-in with Stacy Keibler. She'd been in far too many scrapes with the leggy blonde to not know that she wasn't going to let things easily lie. What Trish didn't expect, however, was for Randy, Shane and Stephanie to be with her when she came looking for trouble.

By the time it was all over, Trish was almost positive that she had a few strands of hair missing, and Dave was completely positive that there was no way he was letting her stay alone that night. It wouldn't have been Trish's first choice as a way to start a new business partnership, but if it made him feel better and put her in a position to find out more about him, then she couldn't complain. She could, however, protest at the fact that he so easily grabbed blankets and plopped down on the floor.

In a way, Trish felt somewhat hypocritical. She kept telling herself that she didn't want this to turn into a sexual thing, but at the same time, she was a bit offended by his almost complete disregard for her sexual being. Granted, boxers and a t-shirt weren't exactly lingerie, but she was self-confident and vain enough to think that she could make damn near anything look good. Boxers and a tank top on her should have equated to bra and panties. She didn't want to screw him into the group, but at the same time, she wanted to feel like a woman. Though, she supposed it was virtuous, that he didn't take liberties with her or expect anything in return for his aid, but… it still was a crushing blow to one's psyche… and ego.

"Trying to say something, Trish?" Dave knelt on the floor, then walked on his knees to the end of the bed. His arms fell heavily onto the mattress and he pushed his body forward until half of his chest laid across the sheets.

"No, I am not trying to say something." She rolled her eyes as she sat down on the bed. "I am merely suggesting that since this is your room, it's only fitting that you shouldn't have to sleep on the floor."

"Where else am I gonna sleep, Trish?" He pushed himself up farther on the bed. "I don't think any of the chairs in this room are going to be comfortable enough for me to get some sleep in."

"Didn't you watch television in the 80s?" She rolled her eyes again and slid beneath the covers. "I can't remember what show it was, but… I'd almost bet it was Who's The Boss." She shrugged. "Anyway, I sleep under the sheets. You sleep on top of the sheets under the blanket. Never do the two of us touch. Perfectly innocent, just friends sharing a bed. It has happened before, ya know."

"And I'm supposed to believe…" Dave pushed himself up to his feet, then sat down on the bed. He leaned in towards Trish. "…that the two of us are going to share this bed… this bed that's barely big enough for my shoulders alone… and we'll not touch at all?"

Trish gulped hard. This man was obviously smarter… and more devilish than she had given him credit for. "Yeah," she said, proud of herself for keeping her words free of any stutter.

"Now, you're lying." He leaned in closer. "There's no way that the two of us could share this bed and not touch." Dave snorted a laugh. "You were a science major in college. You know that physics does not allow our bodies to share such a small space. And when we touch, then… you'll either jump and run or things might get a little bit… sticky."

"I do not run." Even as she said it, she knew she was lying. She could count the number of times she ran and run out of fingers. Of course, those had all been different situations. There would be no running because that wasn't part of the bargain. It wasn't how she got her job done. "And trust me, there is nothing… sticky about any of this."

"What's the deal with this, huh?" He pushed in closer, then abruptly stood up. He rose as though yanked by strings. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Hunter. I'm not stupid and I know when there's something going on that's not quite right."

"I didn't say you were stupid, and there is something going on. In case you were out of it downstairs and don't remember the reason you asked me to stay in your room in the first place, I have McMahons and a couple of psychos after me. Out of the goodness of your heart, you came and stopped Shane from going Vince on me. I thank you for it. But, you thinking there are conspiracies or whatever going on is just… well… it's you trying to find an excuse for there to be something sinister going on."

Dave looked at her with his nose crinkled. He knew she was lying, though exactly about what, he wasn't sure. Something had felt wrong about the situation from the moment Trish asked him what he would do for gold. He felt that there was more to that question than was on the surface and maybe, if he scratched a little bit at a time, he would find out what it was.

It did seem like fun, though. Playing whatever game Trish was offering him. Honestly, until he was put in the Royal Rumble, life had gotten boring since his loss to Triple H at the previous year's WrestleMania. He'd gone into that pile of others who had lost their self-respect and spot in the limelight by jobbing to Vince McMahon's favorite little prodigy. Until Bischoff entered him into the Rumble, Dave had been pushing his way back through the ranks, edging past his spot curtain-jerking and, hopefully, making his way back towards the main event. This new adventure with Trish, if nothing else, would bring some excitement back into his career.

"Oh, there's something sinister going on," he muttered as he knelt down on the floor. Dave laid on top of the comforter and stared up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach. "And I'm going to figure it out. But, until I do, I'll play along."

"Why?" Trish asked as she reached over to turn out the light. He obviously wasn't going to take her up on the offer to share the bed, and in a way, Trish was glad. Something about his actions that night made her think that she wasn't going to be able to control the situation as well as she had planned. She knew what game she was playing, but the board he was using… she didn't know if it were Risk or Chutes and Ladders.

"Because," he said with a grunt, "I could use the excitement, and kicking Orton's ass is great practice for when I face Triple H at WrestleMania."

"You're very confident that you'll win the Rumble."

"I did it once, I'll do it again. And this time…" He sighed. "This time, there'll be nothing stopping me from taking that belt out of Triple H's hands and slapping him across the face with the strap like the little bitch that he's become."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Royal Rumble 2006…**_

Chris Jericho walked out of the match still the Intercontinental Champion, much to the dismay of Shane and Stephanie McMahon. Despite their interactions, plus those of Stacy Keibler, Randy Orton was unable to regain the gold that he had lost nearly two years prior. While his loss couldn't be blamed directly on Batista, he could use his association with Trish Stratus as a motive for revenge. It was the distraction caused by a blazing Women's Champion as she grabbed Stacy's hair that gave Jericho the leverage to take Orton's legs out from under him and lock on the Walls of Jericho. And in the end, Randy tapped out and Trish was walking back up the ramp with a smirk… and possibly two or three of Keibler's hairs twisted around her fingers.

The Rumble itself, though…

Thirty men, an equal division between Smackdown and Raw. Batista entered the match at twenty-nine. Considering that Bischoff wasn't even considering him for the match that chose number thirty, it was as close to an easy win as anyone could fix for him. By the time he got in the ring, there were fifteen other men still fighting it out, and within fifteen minutes, it was down to three.

Kurt Angle. Shelton Benjamin. Dave Batista.

Shelton stayed to the side and watched as Batista and Angle fought. They threw punches back and forth. Shelton slouched down in the corner, watching as Batista picked up Angle for the Batista Bomb. Kurt jumped up the second he was on Batista's shoulders and shimmied down his back. He twisted and as he came to his feet, Batista hit the mat. Kurt locked on the Angle Lock, twisting and torquing Batista's ankle. The big man screamed and clenched his fists. He knew that he could tap without losing the match. He could beat the mat until his hands bled, but that would neither win Kurt the match nor find Batista any salvation. There was no one there to make him break the hold. No one would pry Angle off of him, and there wasn't a chance in hell that he was giving him the satisfaction of making one more person tap out.

They were closer to the side of the ring than either of them had previously gauged. Shelton Benjamin took what he saw as the perfect opportunity to eliminate the last Smackdown competitor in the ring. He stood up, hopped from side to side, then rushed forward. His arm was level with Kurt's chest, and it should have been an easy clothesline out of the ring. However, Kurt saw him coming and at the last second, he released Batista's leg, then dove to the side. Shelton's own momentum pushed him forward, up and over the top rope. He held on, trying to keep his feet from touching the floor. Kurt came back to the side and drove a knee into Shelton's back. One more knee and Shelton was on the floor with a referee telling him that he had to leave the ringside area.

Batista was still rolling on the mat when the Olympic gold medalist turned his eyes to him. The Angle Lock would have put him in more pain, but both men knew that the move wasn't going to win the Royal Rumble. Kurt would have to get him to his feet to be able to throw him over the top.

He stepped back, waiting for Batista to slowly climb to his feet, then rushed him. They traded blows, but it was harder for Batista to stay on his feet. Kurt came up on him from behind as he regained his footing and locked his arms around his waist. Pushing up with his thighs, Kurt tossed Batista over his head. Dave landed with a thump and rolled. His ankle was hurting and his head was sore, but he knew he had to get to his feet.

Just as the men were both on their feet, facing off again, a ruckus at the top of the ramp turned both their heads. Triple H was bursting through the curtain. He'd just barely made it out of the last WrestleMania with his title. Between then and now, he'd lost and regained his title, and he wasn't about to put it up against the same man two years in a row. Referees stopped him before he could enter the ring, and surprisingly, it wasn't an appearance by Flair that caused the next distraction.

Kurt and Batista were locked up again, with Kurt backing his opponent into the corner, when Stacy and Trish entered ring side. By the time Stacy caught up to her, Trish was already at the corner. She had a tight grip on Batista's leg, doing her best to hold him down as Angle tried to lift him up. And then, suddenly, the added pressure was gone and Batista was tottering over the top.

Trish grabbed at Stacy's hands as they ripped into her hair, her fingers digging into her scalp. She kicked her feet, trying to stop the movement as Stacy dragged her away from the ringside. Stacy dropped her on the floor, then looked up as Stacy sat on her stomach. The blonde gripped her hair and though she made a big deal out of slamming her head into the padding beneath them, Trish found it odd that it didn't hurt as much as it should have.

Back at the ring, Batista was sliding back inside the ring, while Kurt continued to try and push him out. The referees were busy trying to keep Triple H from the ring and separate the women. They didn't see Randy Orton surge out from the crowd and jump up on the ring apron. Shane and Stephanie were just inside the barricade, leaning over and screaming.

Randy reached over, presumably to grab Batista and pull him out. Dave rolled inward, though, and Randy's arm hooked Angle's neck and shoulders. He jumped down and Kurt went over the ropes. He caught his feet on the apron and stood up, but Batista was there, waiting. He brought his forearm up and hit Kurt hard in the face. The last Smackdown superstar in the Royal Rumble toppled to the floor, and Dave sagged against the ropes.

"The winner of the 2006 Royal Rumble… Dave Batista!"

Shane and Stephanie screamed. Orton stomped and jumped. Stacy jumped up off of Trish and ran to Randy, screaming with indignation. Triple H stopped fighting the referees to throw a temper tantrum at the end of the ramp. Trish jumped up and slid into the ring. She slid an arm around Dave's waist and helped him stand as the referee rose his hand. Trish turned her head towards Orton and Keibler and was stunned by the quick flash of a smirk that curled his lips before he started complaining again. She turned to look at Shane and Stephanie. Both were still infuriated, but they're eyes were lit.

She turned back to Dave. He hadn't seen anything. He was too busy staring at Triple H and glowering, all the while trying to stand up on his aching ankle. Trish looked back to Orton and Keibler, then Shane and Stephanie. The quartet were making their way out of arena, stomping along with security as they were led through the crowd. Something had changed within the last two days, and she was damn sure going to find out. Right after she figured out how to have a non-carnal celebration with the winner of the 2006 Royal Rumble.


	8. Chapter 8

It took a lot for Dave to get drunk, and he had been determined to do what it took to get to that state. This was his night, his time to shine and celebrate. The next night would bring more drama than he cared to think about and he knew that without a drink or ten, that's exactly where his mind would have ended up. He'd have spent the entire night wondering what Triple H was going to do on Raw. He would have worried over what Orton and the McMahons were going to do on Raw. He would have dwelt far too long on the curiosity that filled him with each second that he spent with Trish.

She was hiding something. Of that, he was absolutely positive. She went off on her own, occasionally, but that wasn't what triggered his suspicions. As far as Dave was concerned, Trish was just like anyone else. She needed some time to herself just as much as he did. They were around each other so much since the night he saved her from the McMahons that it only made sense that they needed to get away from one another. The time she was away wasn't just her alone time, it was his as well.

No, what most raised Dave's suspicions was the quickness with which they had gotten close. On the surface, he supposed it wasn't too bad. They rode together and, with the people they had at their backs, they shared a room. Much speculation had been made about that arrangement, but if anyone were to come into their room in the middle of the night, they would find a scene that was so chaste that it was to the point of being ridiculous. Trish slept in her bed. Dave slept in his. Never would the two meet unless one had a habit of sleepwalking and climbing back into the wrong bed.

That in and of itself made Dave curious. That they were still sleeping in separate beds despite the obvious attraction they shared. It seemed as though Trish were doing all she could to make sure that nothing happened between them, and for as much work as she put into it, Dave was sure there had to be some kind of reason. He'd seen the lust in her eyes each time that he walked out of the bathroom in a towel. Already once, they'd come close to kissing, only for Trish to push him away, claiming that this couldn't happen. Not that it wouldn't, or even shouldn't, but that it most definitely could not happen. "Not right now," she had said, which only made him wonder when. What was she waiting for, and what did it have to do with him?

And so… he drank. He drank a lot. He did shots until he was falling over and Trish had to enlist the aid of Benoit and Benjamin to get him upstairs. Dave was lucid enough, though, to see the looks pass between Shelton and Chris when Trish pulled the room key out of her pocket. "I know what you're thinkin'," he slurred, "and thanks to the padlock on her chastity belt, you're completely wrong."

Trish sighed. "Shut up, Dave, you're drunk." She pushed the door open, then stepped to the side. She had them drop Dave on the bed, then ushered them out, saying, "Thanks for the help, glad you were around, all that nice stuff people are supposed to say. Now, goodnight."

Trish closed the door then turned to the bed with a sigh. Dave laid on his stomach in wrinkled clothes, the cuffs of his stark white shirt folded up, the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. His right arm hung over the side of the bed and his knuckles brushed the floor. He groaned and Trish started walking towards him.

"You're insane, you know that?" She sighed and stopped at his feet. She took his shoes off and tossed them to the floor. "I bet you want me to get you a puke bucket, too."

"That would be nice," he muttered. His eyelids fluttered. "It'd be nice if you gave me a kiss before I puked, too."

Trish let out a harsh bark of a laugh and shook her head. "Not happenin', bud." She walked up the side of his body and stood beside his head. "We had this chat, remember? And I said…"

"Not now," he muttered. Dave reached out quicker than Trish thought he was capable of doing and grabbed her arm. He jerked her down to her knees, then gave her a lazy smirk. "That was not then, but now is then's later, so not now really doesn't apply, now does it?"

"You…" She rolled her eyes. "You are so drunk that it's probably against the law." She sighed and tried to pull back from him. He just pulled her closer. "Dave…"

"Come on, Trish." He moved as much as he could onto his side and his eyes fluttered at her. "You know you wanna. You wanna strip me down and have a party."

"Dave…"

"Just be honest about it, Trish." He slid towards her and was just able to catch himself from toppling off the bed. He pushed himself back on the bed, but still held her arm. "Two hot, red-blooded adults sharing a room but not a bed… Something's wrong with that Trish."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Dave. Friends do it all the time, and we're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't know." Slowly, his grip on her arm loosened and his arm started to fall to the floor. "You're up to somethin' and ya know… that's cool. Be up to somethin', 'cause everybody's always up to somethin' and good or bad, it's cool 'cause otherwise, we'd be up to nothin' at all, and that would be boring as shit."

Trish stood up and stepped away from him. "You're nuts, you know that? I swear, tomorrow, you won't even remember half of what you said tonight, if that much."

"Probably, but that doesn't mean I didn't say it. I'm halfway on to you, Stratus. And as soon as I figure it all out, we are gonna party like it's 19-fuckin'-99 all over again."

"Uh huh." She controlled the slight tremor in her voice, but Dave could still hear it. "Just lay there, alright? I'll get you a bucket."

"And then?"

"And then, you can take your trashed ass to sleep and in the morning, we can pretend like none of this ever happened."

Dave peeked an eye open to watch her as she sauntered into the bathroom. He didn't have the strength to move his head, but even if he did, he wouldn't have. Prone on the bed gave him far too good a view of the seat of Trish's jeans as she walked. "Yeah, I'll probably forget," he muttered as he drifted into drunken unconsciousness, "but I'll remember again later. You can bet on that one."


	9. Chapter 9

"Orton knows everything."

Trish jumped to her feet and whirled around, her eyes going instantly around the room. She was the only diva left in the locker room. She should have known that from the very fact that Stephanie was in there talking to her, but knowing that didn't make her any less paranoid.

"Jesus, Steph!" She shook herself, then slowly sat back down. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that. Besides, you're not supposed to actually talk to me in person. You're supposed to call me."

Her night had been long and Trish's patience was far too thin. Once Dave passed out, he slept through the night, but Trish had been unable to get to sleep. Every time she rolled over, she found herself staring at him. The moonlight shone through the blinds and lit just enough of him for her to be able to make him out, even in the dark.

Things were getting… complicated, to say the least. To deny her attraction to him would have been a blatant lie, and while she lied easily to others, she tried not to lie to herself. His body was awe-inspiring and when he spoke low, his deep voice could send a shiver down her spine. He kept touching her, teasing her, and it was driving her insane. More than that, though, she was amazed at how genuinely concerned he was. Though it was obvious that he was aware of some sort of conspiracy, he still gave Trish his trust. He still gave her his support. He still gave her an ear to bend when she felt the need to rant. Granted, the rant was usually complete fiction, but he still listened.

She wanted him. He wanted her. But there was no way that she was going to give Stephanie an excuse to make slut jokes. She wasn't going to give her the chance to even remotely insinuate that sex had brought Dave over to the dark side. He was going to be sucked into the Empire by his own force of will, his own desire for gold, or he wasn't going to be sucked in at all.

"I didn't feel like calling when you were right down the hall." Stephanie smirked and plopped down beside her. "Besides, if anybody sees us, we'll just turn it into something else. Who's to say I didn't get in your face or threaten you, huh?"

Trish rolled her eyes. "Ya know, I can pretend to be scared of Shane. Even though I know he wouldn't lay a hand on me, it's a lot easier to be scared of someone who's stronger. Scared of you, though…" She snorted a laugh. "We both know I can kick your ass if we really went for it."

"That's what you think."

"Uh huh." Trish knew that Stephanie wouldn't dare admit something like that, anymore than Trish would admit that Stephanie could make or break her. They had an unspoken rule. They could hurl as many threats and catty comments as they wanted, but deep down, each woman knew just where her powerbase lied. "By the way, I already knew that Orton knows everything. I saw his face last night, and Keibler didn't ram my head into the floor like a nutjob. I sorta figured it out."

"Well… good." Her chin rose slightly, giving her an air of superiority that made her feel better, and made Trish roll her eyes. "I told Shane you weren't stupid and you figured it out, but he wanted me to make sure."

"And you always do what Shane wants you to do?"

"Only when I want to." Her head lowered slightly, so she could look in Trish's eyes as opposed to looking down on her. She sighed and her body started to relax a little. "You know, Trish, if this gets dangerous for you…"

"It's fine," she said quickly. It still amazed her, sometimes, that after all they'd been through, she and Stephanie were able to get along. They would never be best friends, but they had gotten to the point in their lives where they could respect one another. Both had grown a lot in the past five years, and the maturity had shown them both that they were a lot alike. They were women out to get respect in a world that was dominated by men and, though they sometimes had to walk on people to get there, it wasn't out of pure malice. It was about self-preservation and perseverance. They could pretend to hate each other, they could pretend to marginally get along, but when push came to shove, they had each other's backs. They were in this together, and anyone on the outside had better beware.

"We know what Dave's like when he's upset and… Shane…" She shrugged. "Shane doesn't want you getting in over your head."

"I'm not in over my head. You can tell… Shane…" Trish paused for a moment, because she was almost sure that the McBrat that was worried wasn't Shane. He was always a lot more blatant about his concern. If he were worried, he would have just come to her and say it. Stephanie, on the other hand… She had to keep up her façade just as much as Trish did. "…that things are going along just fine. In fact, I think the time for Dave to learn everything is coming really soon."

"Oh, really?" Stephanie stood up slowly and crossed her arms. "And why do you think that?"

"Because I can't keep this thing a secret forever, and he's already getting antsy. He knows that something is up." She kept to herself that she wanted to get it all over so she could stop denying Dave the kiss that he practically begged for. "And he wants that title, Steph. I've already gotten him to admit that he'll do anything to get it. Now… I just have to show him that it's much better to be on our side than his own."

"And you're sure he's gonna go for it."

"Almost positive. Don't worry, before WrestleMania comes around, Dave won't be the one we're hiding these little meetings from."

"We're counting on you, Trish." Stephanie turned and headed for the door just as it started to open. She whipped back around and her voice deepened. She had long lost the screech, instead opting for something as close to a growling voice as she could possibly get. "We made you, and by WrestleMania, we can break you. You'll be wishing that Batista had kept his nose out of our business and begging Shane to even care enough to grab you."

"Ooh, whatcha gonna do? Sic the stick on me?"

"Keep it up. Stacy took you out last night, and she can do it again."

"Keibler and Orton can both kiss my ass! Get out of here before I give you a Chick Kick that'll knock you out of your ugly comfy shoes."

Stephanie's eyes narrowed into slats before she suddenly whirled around and stomped off, shoving her way out the door. Victoria stopped halfway in the room and rose a curious eyebrow. "What the hell was that about?"

"Nothing." Trish grabbed her bag and stomped out of the room. She slammed the door behind her and looked to her left. Stephanie was already halfway down the hallway. Her back rigid. She threw a withering glare her way, then ended it with a half-smile before turning back.

Trish sighed and shook her head. It was definitely better to be with them than against them. Because being against them was far too much work, especially on as little sleep as Trish had gotten the night before.


	10. Chapter 10

_**February 2006…**_

"I can't."

Dave groaned and in his next breath, he was tumbling to the floor. She was being difficult. There was absolutely no reason for her to deny the attraction between them. He and Trish had spent the last two and a half months fighting off everyone who came their way. They fought off Flair, Triple H, Orton, Keibler, McMahons and everyone else who thought they could make a name by destroying The Animal. They'd spent the last two weeks trying to win Trish's title back from Molly Holly.

Except when they parted for appearances and to touch base on the homefront, they spent every possible moment together. They still shared a room. They shared a ride. They booked their flights together. They weren't going to leave the other for too long in case the enemy decided to play a game of divide and conquer. Of course, Dave was getting to the point where he wasn't too sure just who counted as the enemy.

As time passed, things got strange. Stephanie and Trish were having far too many altercations that didn't end with one slapping the other. The attacks outside of the ring got less and less frequent. Stacy Keibler's interference that cost Trish her title on Raw seemed a little too choreographed. It was as though Trish knew exactly when Stacy was coming to the ring and was waiting for it. As though she were sacrificing her title for something… greater, maybe?

All in all, things didn't add up. They were supposed to be going head to head with McMahons and more trouble arose from Triple H than the children of the most powerful man in sports entertainment. Stephanie and Shane had gotten in the middle of too many Batista/Hunter confrontations, landing against Hunter but not necessarily with Dave. There was a plot brewing, and Dave was almost certain that he knew what it was. Only problem was… Trish's actions didn't hold with the theory he'd come up with.

Groaning, Dave got to the floor and looked down at her. She was too fucking gorgeous as she laid there, her hair and make-up smeared. Trish jerked the covers up to her neck and leaned forward. The straps of her bra strained against her back. Dave groaned. "I'm taking a shower," he muttered.

She didn't say anything, and all he could do was walk away. Otherwise, he'd find himself screaming with frustration. He couldn't look at the obvious heat in her eyes and listen to her still say no. He couldn't lay there in the other bed, staring at her, knowing that she wanted him as much as he wanted to climb in her bed and kiss every part of her body.

The bathroom door slammed hard. Dave turned the shower on and peeled off his clothes. He shivered as he stepped in, used to warmer showers. He couldn't stand beneath a cold spray, but he needed the water to be little bit under tepid. He needed it to be cold enough to cool his raising erection and still warm enough for his mind to clear. There was more to this situation than just a woman denying her passion, and if he were ever going to get her to move past her denial, he had to figure out how.

Dave was pretty sure they were more than just comrades. They spent enough time together that they had become friends as well as allies. Trish had to know that whatever happened with them would be more than just random sex. She had to know that he didn't help her just to work his way into her pants. He helped her in the first place because it felt like the right thing to do. He continued to help her because she gave back just as much as she got. They watched each other's backs, and both of them knew that they couldn't prevail on their own.

The water poured over Dave's head and he tried to rationalize it all out. Going by everything else he'd observed, he would have assumed that this was some master ploy. When suspicious activity was added to what he'd learned about the McMahon family during his time in WWE, he could see where this would be their plot. Send in the sexy blonde to cajole him to their side. Use her feminine wiles to make him believe that it was better to be with the McMahons than against them.

As it were, Dave could see where that would make sense… and where it would work. He was already getting used to the idea of having someone on his side again. Since leaving Evolution, he'd been alone. Sure, the other babyfaces of the locker room would come and back him up, but it wasn't because they were on his side. It was more a case of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." They all had a common goal: Topple Triple H so someone else could rise to the top. They could work together when it was convenient for them, but when it wasn't, they would turn their backs just as easily as they'd given a helping hand.

But with the McMahons… Yes, they were deceitful as hell, and number one came first, but Dave had seen the way it worked when Trish was in with them. They were firmly on Trish's side. Their goal was to push her to the top, and they had done that. There was no complaint about titles because Shane and Stephanie weren't in it to personally hold gold. They were in it to say that they backed a winner, to prove that they could make anyone just like their father had made Triple H. For Dave, they would have done the same. They would have pushed him just to spit in their father's face. It had nothing to do with enemies and everything to do with simply being on top. It all made perfect sense.

Well, it would have made sense if there weren't two gaping holes.

For one, they already had someone to push, and it had been a lot easier to get him. Granted, Randy Orton wasn't the number one contender, but at the time that Trish came into his life, neither had Dave been the one set to main event WrestleMania 22. No subterfuge was needed where Orton was concerned. He was eager to grab the reigns and he would run with them just as easily as Dave would have. What was the point in continuing a search for a champion when they possibly had one already?

More than that, though, was Trish. If she were there to seduce him to the dark side, then why was she stopping? She wouldn't have bothered to spend so much time getting to know him if she were merely there as a lure. She would have used every silky inch of her body. If that had been the plan, Dave would have been coveting her body instead of standing in the shower, watching his erection slowly fade while the water pounded on his back.

And yet, it still seemed like something was wrong in all of this. If he thought of the McMahons in a sense of business, Shane and Stephanie would be following in their father's footsteps. They would be doing what they learned from him, which was how to take power out of someone's hands. They would be searching for a replacement for Bischoff, which would explain the confrontations Dave had seen between Shane and Ric. They would be building an empire, which would give a reason as to why they still wanted him when they already had Orton. They were building a stable, a powerbase, and they were hedging their bets. The more people one picked up, the less it would hurt the cause if one of them defected. But, he still couldn't find an answer for Trish.

Was she sent in to get him? If so, maybe she was going about it a different way than he would have expected. With that being the case, Dave would be extremely disappointed in himself. For all he knew, he could have been proving that she had more to her than just sex, and all he'd done was prove that no one had faith in her to get anything any other way. Maybe she was trying another tactic, and if that were the case, he'd have to say that she was successful.

The more he thought about his theory, the more he realized that it was plausible. Bischoff had done nothing to help him along the way. Once it was clear a year ago that he wasn't going to go to Smackdown, Dave had been stuck in the pile of those who lost to Triple H. Until Randy Orton delivered the blow that accidentally won him the Royal Rumble. Until Trish Stratus showed up and started explaining her theories on how to get ahead. Aligning himself with the McMahons would definitely not ingratiate himself to those in the locker room, but it would get gold around his waist. And no matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he would do damn near anything to be the World Heavyweight Champion.

"Dammit!" Dave struck out at the wall, his palm slamming hard against the tile. It was frustrating as hell to be so unsure. He would have rather known one way or another than to be caught in the middle, wondering what scam was working around him. He'd have rather been in the other room, kissing Trish Stratus, than standing in the shower as the water went from tepid to cold.

Growling, Dave turned the water off and got out of the shower. He dried off quickly, then wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into the room. Trish was still awake, but she was dressed to sleep in boxers and a tank top. Her hair had been combed and pulled back in a ponytail. She looked at him and he sighed. She was even more beautiful with her face fresh than when she was made up for television.

Groaning, Dave went to his bag and pulled out a pair of track pants. He thought about going back into the bathroom but said the hell with it. He slid the pants on under his towel, then threw the towel onto a chair. He looked at Trish again and she was watching him. He wondered if she'd gotten a glimpse of something she liked, or at least of something that would make her spill so they could both see something they liked even more. She didn't say anything, so he sighed and went to the bed.

"Ya know, Trish, I'm not stupid," he said, sliding beneath the covers. "I know something's going on, and we'd both be better off if you just told me."

"There's nothing going on, Dave. I just… I thought I was ready for something and I'm not."

"Yeah, well, when you're ready let me know." He reached over and turned off the lamp, then settled back against his pillow. "Because whatever you've been working your way up to, I'm ready for it. The whole kit and fucking kaboodle." He closed his eyes and hoped that, if he were right, his admission was enough to make her spill. Then they could both move on from this stagnant pool of suspicion and unquenched desire.


	11. Chapter 11

_You'll have the limousines, again. The finery, the high styles… You'll be in a suite, instead of splitting a room two beds in it. And more important, you'll be on top. You'll have the World Heavyweight title. You'll be the most important guy on this show, and yeah, there's gonna be a bullseye on you, but you won't be alone. We'll have your back. You already know that Randy's good back-up. I'm good back-up. _

Since the night before, Trish had been trying to find the perfect way to spill everything to Dave, and no matter what she came up with, nothing sounded right. She was almost positive that he would say yes, that he would join up with them and go for the gold in the best way possible. Before, there had been some hesitation, but now… He'd said it himself. He was ready for whatever she had, and he knew she was plotting something. If he were as smart as she thought he was, he had figured out the plan. If he were as smart as she thought he was, they really should have just asked him flat out in the first place.

_We're taking over, Dave. Plain and simple. Shane and Stephanie have a plan-- No, we have a plan because I helped come up with it. By SummerSlam, everyone will be under our thumbs. We're taking over every title, every position of power, and we want you at the helm. We want you to be the man that leads our regime into the new era of wrestling. We want you to run the McMahon machine that's going to bowl this place over._

Again, she wasn't sure just how to go forward with it. She just knew that, after the previous night, she had to do it. Her libidio couldn't take the resistance anymore. She couldn't take his eyes staring at her. Hell, she could barely take his hand brushing against her as they walked down to the ring. There were only so many times that she could push away from a kiss or shove him out of the bed. This had to be done before her last bit of resolve broke, otherwise, she'd never know if it were her body that made him agree… or just her.

_I know we should have asked you straight out, but sometimes, McMahons can be hard-headed. They don't always want to listen, and I told them, Dave. I told them that you were a man with fire. That you wanted things and that you would take them when it was offered. They figured you were too far gone to the side of righteous indignation, but I knew better. Even before I really knew who you were, I could tell that you weren't there. You were straddling the fence, and all you needed was a tug in either direction. No one on the other side had come to get you, so we could move in. It wasn't manipulation as much as feeling you out, making sure that you wanted us as much as we wanted you._

The hell with the we, Trish wanted him. She wanted him so much it made her stomach churn. There were a million things she could have said to him, but none would truly explain as much as an out and out spill of everything racing through her head. Of course, that would have taken hours and in the end, it was completely possible that she would say it wrong and he would walk away. There was no way she could go back to Shane and Stephanie as a failure. More than that, there was no way she could let Dave Batista just walk away from her.

Trish looked around the room and sighed. Their bags were packed, and in about an hour, they would be on their way to Chicago. Her eyes turned towards the door as the sound of the shower running stopped and her body instantly clamped with fear. She knew that Dave would walk out of the bathroom in a towel and she knew that it would make her stomach jump to her throat. Trish almost thought that he was doing this on purpose. For the past few weeks, he'd been coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Usually, unlike the night before, he would take his clothes and go back in the room, but now… He was a man frustrated, a man who wanted something, and he'd shown last night that he was going to tempt the hell out of her until she broke.

"He's an evil, evil man," she muttered, shaking her head. The bathroom door opened and she could feel the heat rushing up her neck. The grin that Dave tossed her before moving farther into the room only made her skin glow even more red. He was doing this on purpose, and she wondered just how long it would be before he just stripped down in front of her and let her see every inch of what her protests were making her miss. "I, uh, I gotta get in the shower so we can go."

"I might have used all the hot water." Dave walked to her so slowly that Trish thought she could actually see the air move around him as he pushed himself forward. He was coming towards her and she was trapped. The door was to the left, a table to the right. He'd get her by the time she got the door opened and then she'd be screwed… and she wasn't sure if it was the screw that she actually wanted.

Trish gulped. "Then, um, I'll just have to stand here for a minute and wait."

"Exactly." He finally stopped in front of her, so close that Trish thought if she inhaled too hard, she would suck the water right from his chest. Dave reached out and put his hands flat against the wall. Trish could have ducked under him, but she was too enraptured by his chest being that wet, that close to her.

She gulped. "Dave…"

"Tell me somethin', Trish." He moved in closer to her. His close-cropped hair was still wet and beads of water fell onto Trish's head as she tried to focus on the floor. The drops forced her head up and she blinked rapidly. "What was it that stopped you from going on last night?" Her head dropped and he pulled back on one side. His hand went to her chin and he pushed her head back up to him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Dave." She sighed. It was hard enough for her to think about. To actually say it out loud would be torture. Of course, standing there with him touching her while he wore only a towel and she was still dressed in her pajamas was torture in and of itself. "It's hard to say."

"Tell me, Trish."

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was so close that she could actually watch her breath dry a spot on his chest. "I did something, Dave. I mean, I wanted to do something and I was supposed to do something, but I can't because that's not how I want to do it."

"Do what?"

"Get you to our side," she said with a heavy sigh.

Dave pulled away from her, then took a step backward. Trish closed her eyes and waited for him to pull back farther, but his shadow didn't move. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked up at him. His face was no longer a mask of ravenous temptation. He was in thought, and his eyes were heavy. After a few minutes, he said, "Your side as in the McMahon side."

"Yeah," she said breathily.

"Orton and Keibler's side."

"Yeah."

"That first night, when you asked me what I would do to get gold…"

"This is what I was talking about." Trish sighed, and then opened her mouth and let it spill. "I know what people think about me, because when I'm bad, I'm really good at being bad, and I've made it known that I'll do anything to get what I want. But, I didn't even want to go this route. I wanted to be upfront with you, but Stephanie and Shane… they're McMahons and they have their way of doing things. So, if I had to do this, and I did, then I would do it my way. So I won't kiss you and I won't sleep with you because I don't want that to be the reason you went along with this. I want you to go along with it because you really want it, because you believe in what we're doing. We're taking over, Dave, and we want you to be at the helm. We want you as our World Champion, and sweet Jesus, I want your body more than anything else right now."

Trish let her entire body droop and if she wasn't leaning against the wall, she'd have fallen right on her face. It was exhausting to say all of that, and she'd done it in as few breaths as possible. But, he needed to know. He needed to know that she didn't want to trick him, and more than that, she didn't want to seduce him into it. She wanted him to really want this. She already knew he wanted her, but did he really want THIS. The whole thing. He'd said the whole kit and kaboodle, but she had to be sure.

Dave moved back to her. His arms once again imprisoned her. His hands pressed flat against the wall. He moved in closer to her, until the heat from his forehead made her own head sweat. A smile played on his lips and his voice was low as he said, "I knew it."

Trish blinked up at him in confusion. "You…" She gulped. "You knew?"

"I had my suspicions." He shrugged and his head bobbed to the side. "I'm not stupid. You were expecting Keibler when you lost your title. I could tell. And that means that you're just going to get it back at WrestleMania. Orton just happening to hit Angle instead of me at the Rumble was a little too convenient. It's also too convenient that for him to have such a problem with me, he spends more time fighting Hunter. It's also too convenient that a certain WWE legend has been spotted talking to Stephanie McMahon way too much."

"Dave, I… I told them we couldn't trick you. I told them you'd know, but I couldn't just say no. I mean, I was part of the whole plan and I wasn't going to let them kick me out of something that I partially came up with."

"I made up my mind when I first figured it out. Well, when I thought I figured it out."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I did."

"And what did you decide?"

"That I want everything you're offering me, Trish."

"Everything?"

Dave smirked. He leaned down and she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, though, his head moved to the side and he blew against her ear. He whispered, "Everything."

"You're not doing this just to have sex with me?"

"I'm doing this for that title. I deserve it. I deserve every, single thing that you're offering me, and I made up my mind weeks ago that if what I thought was going on was right, then I'd accept when it finally came out."

Trish blinked, then took in a deep breath. Her head turned to the side and she saw her cellular sitting on the table. Releasing a shaky breath, she ducked down under Dave's arm to grab it, then stood back up. She flipped the phone open and hit the speed dial. When the other line picked up, she gulped hard and said, "Shane, it's done. See you in Chicago."

Trish turned off the phone and let it drop from her hands. She looked up at Dave and her bottom lip trembled. A wave of relief washed over her. Granted, she had no idea what would happen when all of the conspirators were together and the entire plan was laid out before him, but at that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that Dave Batista was on her side and she'd gotten him there without any sexual favors. She didn't have to worry about her reputation or anything of the like. All she had to do was take what was standing before her, because as much as he was accepting, she was definitely still offering.

With no more thought, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Trish pulled Dave down to her and as she kissed him, his arms fell. His hands rested on her waist and he lifted her. Trish wrapped her legs around his waist and held him tighter. Dave pushed her hard up against the wall and pressed his body against her. He pulled back for a moment and smirked at her. Breathlessly, he said, "I thought you had to take a shower."

"I do. And you're gonna need one, too, so we might as well do what we've both been needing to do, and take the shower later."

Dave laughed, then bent forward. He ran his tongue along her collarbone and Trish inhaled sharply. He pulled back and said, "Or, we can kill two birds with one stone." He turned, and crossed the room. The bathroom door closed behind them, the shower started to run again, and Trish thought, checkout was just going to have to wait.


	12. Chapter 12

"We couldn't find a cleaner part of the city to ride around in?" Shane McMahon leaned back against the seat of the limousine and sighed. He turned his head to stare out the window as they passed through the streets of Chicago. "I can't believe we're here before we have to be. Look at this place. It's…"

"Disgusting, Shane, yes I know." Stephanie rolled her eyes and looked around the car. Randy and Stacy sat between her and Shane. Trish and Dave sat across from them, with enough space between them that both of their hands could fit beside either of their legs without touching. "But, we're here for a reason."

"A reason that involves everyone in this car." Shane turned away from the streets and let his eyes fall on Randy. "Hunter and Ric have an appearance and we're all crashing it."

Trish took her eyes away from their momentary train on Dave's hand and looked up with wild eyes. There were plenty of things for her to be worried about after leaving the hotel, just barely making the flight out. She didn't know how Randy and Dave would react to one another, and while they were nowhere near as comfortable and friendly as they had once been in Evolution, they had at least not started fighting. There were also no snide comments from Stephanie about Dave's transformation into a McMahon sympathizer, something that Trish had expected to start the moment she got in the car. However, she was not expecting Shane to start changing the plan. Especially when he changed it without consulting her first.

"What do you mean, we're all crashing it?" Trish sat up and the motion moved her closer to Dave. "We can't all crash it because we're not supposed to be on the same team, remember? Or are you changing the plan? Decided to go McMahon and take over something that was less than half your idea in the first place?"

"Don't start, Trish, alright?" Shane groaned and rolled her head back and forth on the seat. "The plan's not changing. Nobody is going to know anything until Wrestlemania. But that doesn't mean that we can't all end up at the same place. Everybody knows that Hunter and Ric have this signing. Everybody also knows that he crashed your appearance a couple of weeks ago."

"And where does Randy come into it? How does he just happen to know what we're planning to do, huh? People are gonna start speculating, and we need explanations."

"Well, if you would let me finish, maybe I could get that explanation out."

Trish narrowed her eyes at him and sat back against the seat. She'd spent too long out of the realm of McMahon contact. When she first teamed with Shane and Stephanie, Trish had forced herself to get along with them. She forced herself to let go of old grudges and bitterness. She forced herself to control her own temper, which wasn't too far off from theirs, so that they wouldn't butt heads. Time away from them had managed to break down the wall she'd built around her darkest emotions to co-exist with them.

Spending time with Dave hadn't helped much, either. Despite his aggressive attitude in the ring, when they were alone, he was pretty much non-confrontational. They didn't have arguments as much as statements. She said her peace. He said his peace. Then the whole thing disappeared for a few days. That didn't help prepare herself to go back into the head-butting arena with Shane and Stephanie McMahon.

"Look," Stephanie said, leaning forward, "everybody knows we're keeping tabs on where you are. We're destroying you, and we're going to take every opportunity to do that. You guys go in to crash the party, then a few minutes later, Stacy and Randy go in and the fight goes from there."

"It's easy for Trish and Stacy." The first words Dave had said the entire ride through the streets of Chicago were low and even. Heads turned towards him and he leaned back. Slowly, his hand rose, and he took his sunglasses off. He took a long look at the lenses, then lowered his hands to his side. He brushed against Trish, but she stayed still, keeping her face as even as everyone else's. "Randy and me… that's gonna be something entirely different."

Trish looked at Shane and wondered what he was thinking. He had taken the lead in the conversation, and he was enough like his father for him to not care for his ideas to be questioned. There was too much at stake for him to take offense at something that Dave did, and if necessary, she would jump in and do what she could to salvage the situation. Trish sighed with relief, though, as Shane said, "Go on."

"Randy's not coming in to save Hunter's ass, so much as to make sure I don't get what I want. Now, we're supposed to be the babyfaces in this whole thing. Or at least I am. As far as anybody else is concerned, Trish is straddling the fence, but the pops from the crowd says that nobody has picked up on any of this. And let's get this straight. I picked up on the whole thing by a week after the Rumble, which means they're all morons."

"Yeah." Randy leaned forward, as though he were taking Dave's easy open into the conversation as one of his own. "We've known they were idiots for years, but you do have a point. They could buy this as retaliation for you, since Hunter's been going after you non-stop. And they'll buy me attacking you. But in the end, we've gotta both end up on Hunter and in everybody else's eyes, we're way too far apart to be doing the whole enemy of my enemy deal."

"So, you pretend that you don't realize that you're both fighting Hunter, then when you do pick up on it, go back to fighting each other."

Trish looked at Stacy and nodded. There were times when she'd noticed that she had more brains than most gave her credit for, but she hadn't been sure how Stacy had gotten along in the regime's meetings. Trish hadn't been able to sneak away to very many, and those few times when they were all in a group, Stacy had sat quietly, listening to everything. Her comment made Trish think that Stacy hadn't been listening as much as coming up with her own ideas and waiting for the time to unleash them.

"And we've got to keep Ric out of the fight," Trish said. She leaned back and her shoulder bumped Dave's. She didn't jump, but she moved over a little so as not to touch him. No matter what they did once they were alone, she was insistent that they wouldn't show any kind of intimacy in public until after Wrestlemania. "So, Stacy, when you go at me, make sure Ric is right there. Close enough that pushing me bumps him and we can just fight around him. He's not going to try to pull us apart, but we can still keep him in the middle of everything. Keep him far enough away that Hunter's definitely on his own."

"So, it's settled," Stephanie said. She looked at Trish and Dave. "You two will make your move when there's about ten minutes left to go. Then, we wait a couple of minutes and send in Randy and Stacy."

The car stopped and Shane said, "We'll knock him down a peg and end his little nice-nice time early. He talks a good game, but he won't really care. He'll be more pissed off that you broke into his time to be drooled over than that he was actually pulled away from his fans." He looked out the window as the car started moving and they backed into an alley. "Get this done so we can get the hell out of here. I don't want to see this place again until Wrestlemania."

"Randy, we'll come and get you and Stacy when security is taking you out of the building." Stephanie sighed and looked across from her. "You two… they're not going to call the police, but if they think the fight's going to start again, they'll hold you until you calm down. So when you're outside, do some yelling, then jump in the car and get out of there, alright?"

"We got it." Dave opened the door, then took a last look around. "And, by the way, be a little more secretive with your meetings around arenas. The people in the crowd may be stupid as hell, but everybody backstage isn't. There are only so many run-ins you can have that doesn't involve fighting before somebody else catches on."

"Don't worry about it," Randy told him with a smirk. "I can toss a good punch your way. All in the name of making it look real, of course."

Dave snorted a laugh. "Of course." He took Trish's hand and after stepping outside, pulled her out, too. He closed the door and watched as the limousine slowly pulled away. When it was gone, he turned his head down to Trish. "How much time before we crash the party?"

She looked down at her watch and shrugged. "A couple of hours or so. Why? What do you have in mind?"

His grin was just sinister enough for Trish to get a chill. Heat grew in his eyes and it was enough to make her shiver. Dave winked and put his sunglasses back on. "Making up for lost time."

"Uh uh." Trish shook her head. "I'm not going to some cheap ass, by the hour motel and we're out of this town the second our little mission is over." She snorted a laugh and patted him on the chest. "Save it for the plane, big man. We have a hotel waiting for us in California, so save it up for that."

Dave laughed and Trish was almost sure that he was rolling his eyes beneath his sunglasses. She shook her head and turned, leading him back towards the car. As tense as she had been with the watching eyes of Shane and Stephanie on her, she was able to relax when they were gone. She'd come into the situation wanting a champion and when it was over, she'd have him in more ways than she could fathom. It was time for her to get what she wanted, and once Wrestlemania was over, she would have exactly that, and no amount of McMahon taunting was going to stop her from having a good time with her very own Animal. Once it was all over.


	13. Chapter 13

_**WrestleMania XXII**_

Trish grabbed the ropes and stopped herself. She planted her feet into the mat and used every muscle in her legs to plant the breaks before her head rammed once more into the turnbuckle. The grip in her hair tightened. Her neck strained as she was forced forward. She moved only an inch before releasing her body and jumping backwards.

Still holding the ropes, Trish dropped suddenly to her knees, just as her head was pushed forward again. Molly Holly went crashing forward, her own momentum propelling her into the corner. Her grip on Trish's hair loosened and Trish crawled backwards, then pushed herself to her feet. She grabbed Molly's hair and returned the beating she'd been given only moments earlier. Molly's forehead collided with the top turnbuckle five times before Trish pulled her backwards by the hair.

Standing in the middle of the ring, she looked around at the crowd. The lights of the Allstate Arena in Chicago, Illinois were blinding. Blood thumped in her ears, pumping quickly as her heart rate sped up. Molly was on her knees, pulling at Trish's hands. She looked down at her, then dropped to her knees. As her body moved, so did Molly. The defending champion's face crashed into the mat and the challenger jumped back to her feet.

Trish dropped quickly back down to the mat. She rolled Molly over and covered her for the pin, but only got a two count out of it. She jumped up and screamed in frustration, then grabbed Molly by the arm. Molly swept her leg out from under her and rolled Trish up for a two count of her own. Both women rolled once and jumped to their feet. Their eyes met, then Trish's gaze went just past her opponent as a tall streak of blonde came running down the ramp.

Molly took advantage of Trish's distraction. She ran at her and speared her to the mat. While Trish was trying to regain her awareness, Molly got quickly to her feet. She bent down and hooked her arm around Trish's neck. She grabbed the side of her pants and forced her up. A quick snap suplex and both were back on the mat. Molly rolled, pulled her up and snapped her down again.

Trish rolled and groaned in pain. Her hands touched her back and she rolled onto her stomach. If she had just a few minutes, she'd be able to get herself together enough to mount a decent offense again. However, Molly was much more seasoned than she, and the champion wasn't about to let her opponent get herself together. Molly lifted her to her feet and scoop slammed her back to the mat. She dropped down for a quick pin and barely got one and a half before Trish kicked out.

Screaming her frustration, Molly pushed herself to her feet. Trish was already moving and starting to get to her feet. Molly went to the nearest corner and started to climb. Outside the ring, she could see Stacy Keibler moving closer to the apron. She was yelling at Trish as she got to her feet, but Molly couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. If she could afford the distraction, she would have kicked Stacy just for the hell of it. As if it weren't bad enough that the McMahons had passed her over for Trish, she'd been passed again for Stacy, even though she was the one who held the Women's title.

Molly finished climbing to the top and steadied herself. She waited until Trish was on her feet, then jumped. At the last second, Trish moved to the side, sagging against the ropes. The Molly-Go-Round didn't connect, and Molly Holly landed hard on her butt. She rolled around, screaming in pain. Trish took that opportunity to kick Molly hard across the back. Molly fell over and Trish dropped wearily to her knees. She laid over Molly on her back and pulled her leg up.

They were too close to the ropes and it gave Stacy the chance to interfere. She grabbed Molly's leg before the two count and put her ankle up on the rope. The referee looked down as Stacy yelled and he jumped up, cutting his count. Trish leapt to her feet and leaned between the ropes, reaching for Stacy and yelling. Stacy was just out of reach, laughing and shouting at her. Molly wrapped her arm around Trish's thigh and pulled her back. The roll-up got her two and a half, and both women jumped to their feet.

Trish and Molly ran forward and locked up in the middle of the ring. Molly gained control and gripped Trish's arm. She locked it up tight behind her back before whipping her across the ring. Trish bounced off of the ropes and started across. Molly bounced off the other side and came at her with a clothesline. Trish ducked the arm and bounced off the other side. She came back at Molly and took her down with a clothesline of her own.

Trish stood up and thrust her arm into the air. The crowd cheered and she laughed. She bent down and lifted Molly up. She gave her a boot to the stomach for security, then cinched her arm around her neck. She rose her free arm again, then went running for the ropes. Stacy reached up and pulled down the top rope just as Trish jumped up for the Stratusfaction. She went flying over the rope and Molly hit the mat.

Trish fell on the outside and rolled. Stacy waited until Molly had the referee distracted to jump on Trish. She slapped her twice, and tried to grab her hair. Trish bucked her body and tossed Stacy over her head. She kicked her once in the stomach, then climbed back onto the apron. Molly shoved the ref to the side and went to the ropes. She held onto the second rope and bent down. She propelled her shoulder into Trish's stomach and the blonde jumped, but didn't fall off.

Molly stood up and hooked Trish's head. She tried to suplex her back into the ring, but Trish held on. Stacy was back up by then and she tried to grab her leg. Trish kicked backwards and sent Stacy reeling into the barricade. She brought her foot all the way around and, holding onto the ropes for balance, delivered a Chick Kick over the top rope that sent Molly flying back. Trish jumped hastily into the ring. She grabbed Molly's legs, jumped over and covered her. When Chioda's hand came down for three, Stacy was trying to get into the ring, but she was too late.

"Winner and NEW WWE Women's Champion… Trish Stratus!"

Trish jumped up and fell only for a second to her knees. Her body was weary and her chest heaved as she tried to get air. Back on her feet, she snatched her title out of Chioda's hand and let him thrust her arm into the air. Trish laughed at Stacy Keibler as the tall blonde stood outside of the ring, spouting, screaming and pouting. Trish held up the belt, thrusting it towards her as she screamed, "Seven times! Seven! And there's nothing any of you can do about it!"

Stacy glared at her, but didn't go back to the ring. She walked away from the ring and headed up the ramp. Halfway up, Stephanie McMahon came down and both women glared at the new champion. Trish screamed again, "Seven times!" Trish dropped to the floor and rolled out of the ring, but she stayed at the end of the ramp. Her enemies backed up the ramp slowly.

"This isn't over!" Stephanie yelled at her. "We'll finish you!"

"I dare you to try!" Trish started towards them and they stopped on the ramp. Trish paused in the middle of the ramp. She jerked forward suddenly as Molly attacked her from behind. That was the entrance that Stephanie and Stacy needed. They both ran forward and all three women attacked Trish, putting the boots to her until they were pried away by a crowd of referees.

Shane and Randy came running out of the back to fight the referees and the women were set free again. Trish made it up to her knees before the attack ensued. She held onto her belt tightly and fought back as much as she could. She dropped the belt for a second and grabbed a leg. Molly fell to the floor, but the other two were still there behind her.

And then, as quickly as the onslaught had begun, it was over. Trish rolled onto her stomach and looked up to see everyone backing away and Dave running towards her. She picked up her belt and slowly rose to her feet. Dave took her arm and helped her up, throwing one of her arms over his shoulders. She leaned against him and looked at the remnants of her attackers backing away. She didn't have the breath to put sound to her words, but as she let her title belt fall until she held it in her hand and rose it as much as she could, her lips moved and she mouthed, "I still have this… and you have nothing!"


	14. Chapter 14

Lionsault and a two count, thanks to Stacy Keibler. She reached into the ring and put Randy's foot on the bottom rope just seconds before Brian Hebner's hand slapped the mat for a third time. Chris Jericho looked up at the ref, then towards Orton's foot on the rope as it was pointed out to him. He stood up, grabbing Orton's head. He pulled Orton up by the neck, shoved him up straight, then chopped him hard against the chest.

Randy's body folded in on itself and his mouth opened in a silent scream. The chop backed him up and Jericho kept going. He chopped him until he was back in the corner, then grabbed his arm and whipped him across the ring. Halfway across, Jericho came up behind him and shoved him hard enough that they both fell to the mat.

Jericho jumped to his feet and climbed the turnbuckle. He came down with a missile dropkick when Randy was back to his feet that connected solidly with his right shoulder. Jericho came back to his feet and went straight for Orton's legs. Randy's body thrashed as he tried to stop himself from being flipped over. He braced his shoulders against the mat, rocking side to side. He tried to push his torso up, but half of his body was already lifted from the mat.

Jericho turned him to the left and Randy blocked the turn. He turned him to the right, and again, Randy blocked the turn. Jericho went for the right again, but quickly reversed it to flip him onto his stomach from the left. He bent down and pulled back, and Randy screamed. With his hands balled into fists, Randy pushed himself up, but Jericho sat back, and he was down flat again.

Randy crawled forward, trying to reach the nearest set of ropes. His hand was almost there when Jericho pulled him back towards the center of the ring. Randy's arms bent and his forearms covered his head as he tried to fight off the pain that burned the small of his back. He let his arms drop and tried to lift himself up again. If he could get enough height to twist around, he could grab Jericho's leg and make him lose his balance.

First his right hand, then his left hand slapped hard on the mat. Still screaming, Randy pushed his body up as far as he could go. He started to turn inwards, folding his body, but his back was in too much pain. He barely got more than a few centimeters turned before he fell back to the mat, his back aching.

Hebner was down in front of him, practically waiting for him to tap out. Randy shook his head and screamed, "No!" He pushed himself up and tried to wheelbarrow towards the ropes again, and once more Jericho pulled back to the center of the ring. Randy's arm rose and fell, but his hand never hit the mat. The arena was filled with people screaming for him to tap out, but he wouldn't do it. He couldn't.

Then suddenly, Stephanie McMahon was on the ring apron. She got one leg through the ropes before Hebner was at the side, pushing her back out. She grabbed his shirt and yelled at him, demanding that she be let inside that ring. "I'm Stephanie McMahon, dammit! I can do whatever I want!" She pulled on him and kept his eyes trained on her.

Stacy had the Intercontinental title in her hands and was sliding into the ring just as Jericho dropped Randy's legs and walked towards Stephanie. Stacy watched as Jericho pushed Hebner out of the way and grabbed Stephanie by the hair. She was on one knee when she felt a hand wrap around her leg. Stacy turned over as she was yanked out of the ring and glared at Trish Stratus. The title fell out of her hands and landed with a clunk on the floor.

Trish speared Stacy into the side of the ring and Stacy crumpled around her. Trish tried to stand back up, but Stacy wrapped her long arms around Trish's waist and held her there. Trish pulled backwards and Stacy moved with her. Trish swept a leg out from under her and both women went crashing to the floor. They rolled on the floor, with Stacy ending up on top. She grabbed Trish's hair and drove her head into the thin mats beneath them. Trish bucked, kicked up a leg and tossed Stacy over her head.

Stacy came to her feet close to the barricade. Trish looked at her, then the steel stairs, then back at Stacy. She ran, jumped up on the second step, then caught Stacy with a clothesline that sent both of them barrelling over the barricade. Trish jumped to her feet and turned to the ring. "Dammit!" She started climbing back over the barricade, but Stacy had enough left in her to grab her leg and keep her back.

In the ring, it was only the champion and the challenger. Hebner was on the outside, running to break up Trish and Stacy. Stephanie had him by the arm, holding him back. Randy was on his feet, but that didn't last too long as Jericho vaulted off of the ropes and came at him with flying forearms. Randy stumbled down to his knees, then got back up.

Jericho ran to the other end of the ring. He bounced off of the ropes and came running. He reached out to grab Randy's head. He had Orton in the air, on his way down, then suddenly, Randy flipped it. As he was lifted from the ground, Randy twisted in the air, brought his hands up to grab Jericho's head, then took him down to the mat with a hard RKO.

Randy jumped to his feet, then fell back to the mat quickly seconds after Stephanie shoved the referee back into the ring. Brian Hebner knelt down and counted. At two, Randy rolled Jericho up tighter, grabbing the back of his tights. At three, he released him and jumped to his feet. His arms stretched out and his back arched as he stood in glory at the announcement.

"Winner and NEW WWE Intercontinental Champion… Randy Orton!"

Stacy squealed with delight and vaulted the barricade. She snatched the fallen belt from the floor and slid into the ring. She handed the belt to Randy, then took his hand away from the referee. Stephanie came up to his side and lifted his other hand. The three of them turned towards Trish as she made her way back up the ramp, stomping and muttering curses.

"You won't keep it for long if I have anything to say about it!" Trish screamed. "This isn't over!"

"Champion!" Stacy shouted. She stuck her tongue out and smirked. "And that's all the gold you'll be getting tonight!"

"You just wait! Wrestlemania's not over!"

Trish glared as she continued to walk backwards, but in the ring, Stephanie McMahon, Stacy Keibler and Randy Orton celebrated their victory standing over the prone form of Chris Jericho. The night wasn't over yet, but so far, everything was so, so good.


	15. Chapter 15

Trish's hands surged up Dave's back, rounded his shoulders, then slid down his chest. She stopped just beneath his pectorals and leaned down. Her lips brushed his ear and she whispered, "Are you ready for this?"

So far, the night had gone according to plan. The Women's title and the Intercontinental title were in their control. No one was the wiser when it came to the "accidents" that had caused both wins. The only thing left for Raw was the main event, and in less than half an hour, the Animal would face the Game, and should everything go as planned, Dave would be bringing home the gold.

Dave leaned back against her and covered Trish's hands with his own. His head turned to the side and a low moan came from his throat as she kissed the crook of his neck. "That title is mine," he muttered. He floated his hand up her arm, towards her neck. Dave pulled her down far enough to kiss her lips, then said, "It's almost over."

"Oh, babe, it's only just begun." The right corner of her mouth turned up in a twisted smirk. She stepped back from him, her hands gliding along his skin until she reached his shoulders. Her hands fell to her sides and she walked around to the front. She knelt between his legs and planted her hands on his tight thighs. "Tonight is the start of something big, Dave. Something bigger than either of us could have ever imagined."

Dave looked down at her and wanted to mirror her grin and optimism. He wanted to believe that everything would go off without a hitch. There was no doubt in his mind that he would destroy Triple H in the ring. He'd beaten him solidly in nearly every match they'd had since the Royal Rumble. He would leave the ring as the WWE World Heavyweight Champion. However, he didn't have nearly as much faith in Shane and Stephanie McMahon.

There was still a part of him that was unsure of the entire bargain. So far, they had shown themselves to be loyal as long as he were loyal to them, but Dave didn't know how long that would last. Randy and Stacy weren't too bad. All the time he'd spent in Evolution with Randy had shown him that he could be loyal to his partners, and with the plans the group had for the future, he was pretty sure that Randy wouldn't have a reason to turn on him anyway. There was enough gold for everyone.

And then there was Trish. Logically, he shouldn't have trusted her anymore than he trusted the McMahons. She had been part of the grand planning session that came up with this scheme in the first place. She had spent months trying to manipulate him, and yet, he didn't think she would turn on him. Despite the fact that the two of them worked well together and the sex, after waiting for so long, was absolutely amazing, she wouldn't want her plan to go down in flames. She wouldn't want her time to be wasted. She wouldn't want all of her willpower to have been in vain.

But that still left Shane and Stephanie. They were in it for themselves, and Dave didn't' think there was anyone in their regime that thought differently. If they thought they could do better, they would turn on every single one of them and start all over again. That was the basis of their faux turn on Trish in the first place. It wouldn't be unlike them to take that idea and make it a reality.

"Dave?" Trish moved in closer. She rose a hand to his face. Her palm rested lightly against his cheek. "Don't tell me you're backing out on me. Please, don't tell me that you're not going through with this."

"I'm going through with it, Trish. I just don't know how excited I can be about the whole deal." He sighed and shook his head. "I know I said I wanted everything you were offering me, and I still do. But, I can't help but wonder how long it's all gonna last. How long can we really trust Shane and Stephanie?"

"For as long as we have to," she told him. "Don't think you're the only one that doesn't trust them. Hell, I don't think anybody in this whole thing trusts anybody else other than their immediate partner. Stacy and Randy trust each other. Shane and Steph trust each other. You and I trust each other." She paused and stood slowly, her hand still against his cheek. "You do trust me, don't you, Dave?"

"I shouldn't," he said softly. He covered her hand with his, then turned in to press his lips against her palm. "But, I do." He looked up at her and smirked. "I think it's the sex," he said with a chuckle and a wink.

"Uh huh." Trish rolled her eyes but laughed. "Well, whatever the reason is, I'm glad you trust me, because I trust you. After tonight, we're going to be hated more than Hunter, and we're gonna need each other."

A knock at the door, pulled Trish away from Dave. She groaned as she stomped to the door and peeked her head out. Maria stood on the other side, a microphone in her hand and a ditzy grin on her face. Trish wondered exactly what she had done to get her contract extended, then wondered how quickly Stephanie and Shane would be able to get rid of her. "What do you want?"

"I was hoping to get an interview before the match. With Batista?"

Trish turned her head and Dave was already up and heading towards her. The door opened wider and he leaned against the side. His arm wrapped around Trish's bare waist. With his other hand, he handed Trish her title belt, which she hadn't even seen him pick up. Trish took the belt, tossed it over her shoulder, then leaned back against him. "Okay," she said to Maria, "talk."

Maria blinked, then cleared her throat. "Batista, Triple H is saying that you didn't beat him last year and you won't be able to beat him this year, either. With all the, um, interferences tonight, and your feud with Randy Orton and the McMahons, are you still sure that you'll be able to go over the Game?"

"Maria…" Dave sighed, then smirked. "I can handle Orton. I can handle the McMahons. And I can handle Triple H. The question you should be asking is if a guy who's lost everything else is ready to lose the last thing he's got left."

"What has Triple H lost?"

"Just look at him. He's got nobody at his side except Flair. I've got Trish, and really, do I need anything else? He's not in the best shape anymore, while I'm in the best shape of my life. And he's lost the self-proclaimed title of most important person on Raw. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one the show revolves around, not him. And when the bell rings and our match is over, it'll be my waist that the belt goes around, not his."

"But, what about Stacy Keibler and Randy Orton? Randy's already won tonight, and it's just luck that Stacy wasn't able to stop Molly Holly from retaining her title."

Trish had to stop herself from telling Maria that she really was a moron. Instead, she said, "Don't worry about Stacy Keibler. I've taken her bony butt out before, and I'll do it again. All you need to worry about is how far back in line you'll be when Batista wins the title, because everybody's going to be after him for an interview."

"And as for Randy Orton." Dave leaned in closer, which bent both his and Trish's bodies forward. "You tell him that whenever he's ready, I'm right here. He wasn't better than me in Evolution and he's not better than me out of Evolution. He's got a couple of McMahons playing with his life and he thinks he's on top of the world. Well, after tonight, we'll be the golden couple of the WWE and that sounds like we're really the ones on top of the world." He stood back up, pulling Trish with him. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I have a match to prepare for."

"And we've got a celebration to plan." Trish pushed backwards, making Dave move farther into the room. She closed the door in Maria's face, then turned to Dave. She smiled at him, her lips stretched fully. "Golden couple of the WWE." She leaned against the door. "I like that."

"So do I," he said. Dave leaned down and kissed her hard enough that when he pulled back, his lips were sticky with lip gloss and hers were almost dry. "And in about an hour, it'll be as true as the fact that we are one damn hot pair."

"Oh, but the truth has never been so clear."


	16. Chapter 16

The Allstate Arena was on its feet as the bell rang and the match was called on account of a count-out. This wasn't how a championship match was supposed to end. Hell, that wasn't how a Wrestlemania championship match was supposed to end. The fans who had paid exhorbitant amounts for their seats were ready to start throwing things to express their dissatisfaction.

And then, Shane McMahon ran down the ramp, pushing past Triple H and Ric Flair, soaring with a paper in his hand to the referee and ring announcer. All eyes were on him as he spoke loudly to the two, waving his hands and ranting. Finally, Lilian Garcia shook her head and said, with confusion, "It has been declared that their must be a bona fide winner. Therefore, the match will be restarted with no count-outs and no disqualifications."

Hunter screamed, but he didn't move. Ric started pushing him forward and he dug his feet in. "What the hell are you doing!" He was shoved forward without a word. "My title, my match, I win! I am not doing this! Where the hell is Bischoff?"

In the ring, Trish slowly stepped away from Batista and moved to the side. He turned towards her and nodded. She took that to mean that he could handle it and slipped out of the ring. Her head turned instantly to the opposite side of the ring, where Shane was rejoining his sister, Randy Orton, and Stacy Keibler. They all looked to her with a smirk, and she glared.

Eric Bischoff came storming to the ring, completing the chain of anyone who could even remotely be connected with the world title match. As he stopped at the end of the ramp, Shane came around, waving his undisclosed sheet of paper in his face. Bischoff rose the microphone and his voice was a devastating howl. "What the hell do you think you're doing," he demanded. "I'm the General Manager here. You have no right to restart a match!"

"I have every right," Shane told him, "and this paper says so. The hell with everything else going on, I'm still a part owner in this company, and I've got written permission from the Board of Directors to do as I see fit to make sure this show ends right!"

"I didn't get any call!" He moved forward and tried to snatch the paper from his hands, but Shane held back. "Give it to me!"

"You don't need it! The ref saw it and that's all you need for now! So, get out of here before I have security drag your ass out!" Shane looked past him to Hunter. "And get your ass in that ring before you're stripped of the title and I make Randy Orton a double champion at Wrestlemania!"

It was made very clear to those involved that Shane and Stephanie didn't give a damn who won this match. As far as they were concerned, Orton would be taking the strap off of someone by the next pay-per-view, so it didn't matter who came out of this match on top. They would end up on the bottom when it was all over. Besides, they had vowed that Batista would not leave Wrestlemania as a winner. He may not have had the strap, but a count-out still gave Batista the victory.

Fighting aside, the match was restarted as soon as Hunter was practically shoved into the ring. The bell sounded and Batista went straight for him. His attack was quick and powerful. His arms wrapped around Hunter's waist. He lifted him and slammed him flat onto the mat. He bounded back to his feet and his back arched as he screamed raggedly towards the more satiated fans.

When Batista turned back, Flair was sliding a sledgehammer into the ring. Hunter's hand found the hammer's head and he used it as a crutch to get back to his feet. He gripped the handle with both hands, ready for a full swing. The sledgehammer came flying from Batista's left and he reached out in time to grab the head, stopping the swing. He and Hunter stared at one another, then Hunter's eyes dropped as he tried to force the sledgehammer inside.

Batista jerked hard and the sledgehammer came loose in his hands. He dropped it to the mat, then rushed at him with a clothesline. Hunter ducked and Dave turned around for a boot in the stomach. He jumped and bent down. Hunter tried for a quick pedigree but was unable to get the arms locked before Batista shook free. He flipped Hunter over his back, using his shoulders to sail the man over his body. Hunter rolled to his feet and was able to duck another forearm before he was knocked down again.

On the outside, Stephanie pointed at Randy and Stacy, then jerked her thumb towards the ring. They started to climb inside and Trish jumped up, sliding into the ring. She ran around Dave and Hunter, then flew straight at Randy and Stacy as they were climbing into the ring. The momentum sent them all crashing to the outside. Shane and Stephanie jumped back, then Randy pulled back. Stacy and Trish stayed on the floor, rolling and fighting. They were still in the way when Hunter grabbed Batista's head and sent him sailing over the top rope.

Batista landed with his shoulder and part of his chest on the women's legs. Both scurried quickly away, moving just in time to avoid Hunter coming out of the ring and taking on the attack. He took the slightly addled challenger by the neck, stood him up, then hurled him into the steel stairs. Batista's shoulder hit hard and the top set of stairs toppled over. He fell to his side, then rolled to his back, holding his shoulder.

Randy took the opportunity to jump into the fray. His boots connected solidly with Batista's abdomen, keeping him on the mat. Hunter came over and shoved him out of the way. Randy stalked up, grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. The two former partners stared at one another, glaring. "Come on!" Randy yelled at him, stepping back. Hunter lunged at him just as Batista got to his feet. He hit Hunter in the back and Randy moved out of the way of the falling champion.

Triple H went to his knees and Batista wailed down on his back with heavy forearms, then picked him up and tossed him back in the ring. Hunter rolled to his feet, but Batista was ready for him. Each time Hunter rose up, Batista knocked him back down. Fearing the end, Ric Flair climbed into the ring and jumped on Batista's back. Dave fell backwards, squashing Ric, then jumping back to his feet. When he turned around, it wans't just Triple H that he found to be standing in the ring.

The fight between the support systems had carried over to the ring. Stephanie and Trish were in the ring, both holding chairs, threatening to swing at any second. Ric had Stacy by the arms, and she was pulling herself away from him. Randy ran to snatch her away. Shane was climbing into the ring, heading towards the fighting women. And once again, that's where Dave's eyes landed, watching Trish as she stood up for him and what he deserved. She was sorely outnumbered, but she was still there as though there was no danger to her.

The slight moment of distraction was enough to give Hunter the upperhand. Orton had gotten Stacy away from Flair, but that only served to free him up to run in. He tossed a chair in and Hunter grabbed it. He swung to Dave's left and the big man rocked to the side. He swung to the right and sent him rocking in the other direction. Ric came in with another chair and nailed the challenger in the back. Batista went down to his knees, his back arched in pain.

Triple H took the opportunity to retain his title. He pulled Batista up and shoved his head between his legs. Both arms were hooked and he looked to the Nature Boy with a grin that said, "I am the fucking man!" He cinched onto Batista's arms tighter, making sure that he couldn't buck out of the hold yet again. Then, as quickly as he'd had him ready to go down, he stopped and his back arched.

He was careless of the people standing behind him, positive that even if Trish tried to do something, Shane and Stephanie would stop her. There was no love lost between him and the McMahon children, but they wanted Batista to lose, and that was a powerful motivator. Unfortunately, his delusions of his own greatness and deity worked against him.

One second they were screaming at each other, and the next, Trish and Stephanie swung their chairs… straight at Hunter's back. His body went rigid and Batista was able to pull himself away. Flair jumped into the ring, ready to lunge at Batista. He jumped and suddenly, Randy Orton was there. He caught Flair mid-leap and grabbed his head. The RKO took out the Nature Boy and Randy jumped to his feet. Stacy dragged the fallen sledgehammer to the center of the ring. As Batista wobbled backwards, gaining his footing, Stacy was able to lift the weapon just enough to slam the handle into Hunter's crouch. He bent forward and slowly dropped to his knees.

Batista stood up straight, clearing his head, then looked around the ring. The new regime that Shane and Stephanie McMahon had formed stood watching with huge grins, waiting for their champion to finish off the deed. Batista grabbed Hunter and jerked him up, then bent him over, forcefully shoving his head between his legs. In a fluid motion, he lifted him up, then planted him down on the mat. He rolled, pinned, and by the time the count was over, he could see Shane standing just to the side, holding his belt.

"Winner, and NEW WWE World Heavyweight Champion… Batista!"

Dave got to his feet and took another look around the ring. They were all coming closer to him, and Trish reached him first. She reached out to him, but he focused on Shane, the only one coming directly to his face. Shane held the gold and he looked at Batista with a smirk. He flipped the belt, as though he were going to come at his head with it, then flipped it again so he held it by the strap. With wide grins, the men rushed into an embrace.

Shane stepped back and handed the belt over. As Batista flung it over his shoulder, Shane lifted his hand in the air. Stephanie rushed over and grabbed his other wrist, hoisting his arm up. Trish stood in front of him, her own title cinched around her waist, and leaned back against him. Stacy and Randy came around to either side of Shane and Stephanie, grinning.

Dave jerked his hands free and Trish turned to face him. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her in the air in a tight hug, then let her drop back down. Then, he went to the corner and climbed up, thrusting his newly won title into the air and taking his place as the new World Heavyweight Champion.


	17. Chapter 17

"It's just beginning." Trish arched her back until the crown of her head touched the bed, then straightened her body. She flopped down, letting her body collapse on the heaping blankets, then turned her head towards Dave. "It's just the start of everything, and tomorrow, we go one step further."

Dave stood leaning against the bathroom door, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Black slacks hung low on his hips, the belt undone and either end slightly swaying in the air. His eyes were on the gold that he had fought to gain for over a year. The belt that Hunter had destroyed so many people over. Now, it was his, and there was nothing Hunter could do about it.

His head turned slowly towards Trish as she spoke, and all he could do was grin. Every bit of common sense that he still possessed told him that he shouldn't have trusted her. She was a woman out for number one, and she would turn on him in a second if given half the chance. And yet, something told him that she wouldn't do it. At least, not anytime soon. He couldn't put his finger on an answer of why, but there was just something there, nagging at him that told him that, for right now, he could trust her.

"Tomorrow night, we take the entire world by storm. We let 'em know it's our world, and we just allow them to live in it."

"Exactly!" Trish bounced up and flipped over onto her hands and knees. "It's our time, Dave. Our time to take over this place and show them where the future really is. To show them that we are the important ones and the generation of Triple H rule is over."

The others of their group were out living it up, celebrating their conquest at Wrestlemania, but Trish and Dave wanted time to themselves. They had stayed with the others for a few drinks, but while they lived it up with champagne and caviar, the golden couple had their own idea of celebration.

Trish sat back on her haunches and crooked a finger at Dave. "Come here," she said with a grin. Her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek and she snickered. Now that everything was in the open, she didn't have to hide her lust, anymore. She no longer had to pretend that she enjoyed Dave's company. In the limousine, leaving the arena, she had thrown her body languidly over his lap, laughing and rolling with excitement. She'd licked champagne off his lips and ignored every snide remark tossed her way from Stephanie. There was nothing she could do to upset her now. She had her title and she had her man. The rest of the world was inconsequential.

Dave crossed the floor, jerking on the end of his belt as he walked. The leather snake slithered out of the last loop and he tossed it out. Grabbing the other end as it came around, he jerked Trish forward until her body pressed against his. The lace of her black bra pushed against his chest, scratching at his skin. She turned her head up to him and Dave kissed her lips lightly.

He wasn't sure what turned him on more. Her excitement or her body. Trish Stratus was a sexy woman, curvy and voluptuous. She was an experienced lover and knew her own body well. She also took the time to learn his. She knew him so well that she could brush an arm against the proper area and give him rise.

At the same time, her intensity and exuberance were just as much of a turn on. He saw the look in her eyes when it was all over. In fact, he wished he'd been able to see her as she swung the chair at Hunter. Dave was almost positive that her eyes had glowed with as much passion and heat as they did when she was laying beneath him with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Being with Trish reminded him of why it had been so thrilling to be a member of Evolution. There was glory in the madness. They had done some mean, horrible things to people, and the darker parts of his soul had enjoyed it. There was a certain thrill to doing things that one wasn't supposed to do. There was a bolt of electricity that zapped him every time he did something that he knew would send others after him.

As champion, men said they had targets on their backs. Dave loved his target, because it kept the chase going, it kept him filled with anticipation. Living in a world of McMahon creation put an even bigger target on him. Those who knew they didn't have a snowball's chance in hell at taking his title would be after him just because of his association. Everyone he'd turned his back on when he took Trish's offer and siding with Vince McMahon's evil spawn would be after him for retribution. All those who had thought they found a champion to fight the good fight would want a piece of his hide as payment for his treachery. It was exciting. It was amazing. It was the sexiest thing in the world… right next to the woman who knelt before him with her lips pressed against his chest.

With her fingers working nimbly at the button of his slacks, Trish let her tongue snake out from between her lips. She ran a wet line across his chest, bringing a shudder from him. She opened his slacks and pushed them down over his hips. Her fingers found the indentations of his hips and, with her thumbs, pushed inwards. Dave growled and the belt dropped from his hands. He grabbed Trish by the waist and flung her down on the bed.

Their legs hung over the side as he bit down on her shoulder. Despite the shower that she had taken after her own match, Trish still tasted of sweat. She permeated the smell of sexual desire. Her body writhed beneath him. Her nails scratched at his back. He bit down harder and she screamed, riding the thin line that separated pleasure and pain. Then, her head twisted to the side and she laughed.

"Isn't it all just… exciting!" She threw her arms down onto the bed and let out a howl of laughter. "The two of us together, knowing what's waiting for us just outside that door." Trish grabbed his face and held him close to her. Her tongue shot out and tapped against his lips. "Doesn't it just make you hot?"

"Oh yeah," he said with a growl. He pushed his head forward and crushed her lips with his own. The thought of everything they were doing made him hot, and the idea of everything they would do later made him even hotter. He pushed him and looked at her with a sadistic grin. "Now, let's use that hot in an efficient manner, huh? Remember what I said we'd do when you finally let it all out."

"Party like it was 19-fuckin'-99 all over again?" She winked at him. "I think that's about right."

"Yeah it is, and tonight… it's gonna be hours before the clock strikes midnight."


	18. Chapter 18

The money strutted down to the ring, and dollar signs had never been more attractive… or hated. Shane and Randy escorted Stacy. Dave escorted Trish and Stephanie. Behind them, a detail of security walked stiffly, their eyes perusing the crowd for any signs of threat towards their charges.

The Regime, as they were calling themselves, had arrived over half an hour late to Raw. They didn't have excuses. There were no proclamations that business had to be completed or traffic was bad. Plain and simple, they could show up whenever they felt like it, and they hadn't felt like breaking up their ongoing celebration quite yet.

They parted from their security detail and made their way up the steel stairs. Shane and Randy went up first, then sat down on the ropes. They both grinned as Stacy made her way over, sliding her hands along the top rope. She leaned to one side and kissed Randy on the lips. She leaned to the other and kissed Shane on the cheek. Then, with her back towards Randy, she bent over slowly and tossed one leg over the middle rope. She stopped, looked to either side, then put her other leg in. Shane and Randy looked at one another, grinned, then slipped easily into the ring.

Dave came up next and perched on the ropes, nearest to the stairs. He took Stephanie's hand as she took the last step, then pressed down harder on the rope so she could step over. As she stepped over, her skirt rose up and he bent forward to quickly jerk it down, letting the crowd know that they weren't seeing anything from the boss. Once Stephanie was inside, Dave slid into the ring and let the ropes bounce back together. Trish stood on the other side and peeked her head through the top and middle ropes. Dave came to her, pushed down the second rope with one hand, then wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her inside as their lips met.

The men all wore similar black suits, all high class and perfectly pressed. The only differences were their shirts and ties, or lack thereof. Shane wore a white shirt beneath his suit with a black embroidered tie. Randy opted against the tie, going instead with a very soft blue shirt with a high collar that stood open and framing his neck. Dave rounded out the group with his usual flashy accessories, a medium blue shirt with a stiff white collar. His tie was a blend of various shades of blue and purple with sparkling veins. It was a look that only he would have been able to pull off.

Stephanie stood tall in a deep red blouse that was covered by her black suit jacket. Her skirt was of appropriate length, falling just to her knees. She was trying to neither show off her legs or hide them. Her shoes were comfortable, a low heel pushing her slightly taller. Her hair fell down her back in straight strands, with bangs cut to meet her eyebrows in the front. Looking out over the crowd, she knew that she owned each and every one of them, and she stood in her professional ensemble with enough poise to radiate that knowledge.

Stacy leaned against Randy, draping her body over him as easily as her flowing dress draped over her body. On the right, the dress ended in a swooping dive about mid-thigh. The hem of the sparkling baby blue dress crossed her legs and came to a halt in a point just above her left ankle. Clear heels that she likened to her own crystal slippers pushed her height up so far that she was the same height as Randy. As her head leaned to the side, bumping the side of Randy's head, her hair fell over her shoulders. Everyone screamed at them, jeers coming from every corner of the arena, but Stacy didn't care. Her languid pose on Randy's body was more than a photo opportunity. It showed just how little she gave a damn about the people on the other side of the barricades.

Trish's rich satin heels didn't push her up nearly as high as Stacy's had, but they got her high enough that she could fully extend her arm and rest her hand on Dave's shoulder without standing on tiptoe. She stood with him as though they were a billboard couple. Her dress was a fused conglomeration the colors that made his tie sparkle and fell about three inches above her knees. The straps were thin and barely existant. Her hair was pulled up in a mass of randomly pinned curls. She could finally show not only her allegiance with the McMahons, but just how much she had truly gotten out of the bargain. She wanted Dave, she got Dave, and there was no better way to show that than to stand like something out of a high-end catalogue.

The music stopped playing. The crowd continued to scream. That didn't stop Shane from picking up a microphone and pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket. It was the same paper he'd had at the pay-per-view the night before. "If you people are finished!" They started to scream again, but unlike others who might have waited for it to die down, he just continued. "You people act like anybody in this ring really care what you have to say." He smirked. "Haven't you figured it out, yet? We are the masters of the universe. We are the kings of the world. We are the light in your miserable, pathetic lives!"

Stephanie took the microphone from him and smirked. "You know… we might as well get to the true point of this whole thing so we can get back to our party. We'd let Batista tell you why he chose to win, but…" She turned and gestured towards Batista and Trish. "…are you really that stupid to not know why?"

As expected, the "You sold out" chants erupted through the arena, but they got no rise from the new World Champion. When he first came to the ring, his belt was around his waist. Since coming inside the ring, it had moved and now hung over his shoulder. Dave looked around and there was nothing but gold in the ring with them. Trish let hers drape over her shoulder. Randy was in the process of taking his off and fastening it around Stacy's waist.

The chants continued and Dave stepped forward. He took his tinted shades from his face, then leaned forward to the microphone in Stephanie's hand. He looked to Stephanie, winked, then turned back to the crowd and said, "You're damn right I did." He stepped back and retook his place beside Trish. The golden pair stood to Shane McMahon's left. The Intercontinental Champion and his gold-bearing girlfriend stood to Shane's right.

"Well, there's your answer." Stephanie smirked and turned towards Trish. "Anything to add?"

Trish smirked, thought for a second, then laughed. "No. But, can we hurry it along? We've got things to do."

Stephanie shook her head and turned to Randy and Stacy. "Either of you have anything to say before we go forward with business?"

Randy and Stacy traded a glance, then Randy stepped forward. He leaned into the microphone and said, "Just that I would like to thank everyone here who was behind me and… No, wait. What am I saying? I didn't need any of you idiots out there, just like I said in the first place. So take your chants and go back to your Dorito's or whatever it is that losers like you stuff your faces with. Stacy and I have better things to do."

"Very well said, Randy." Stephanie laughed and turned back to the crowd. "Okay, let's get this done. I do believe you're all wondering why no one has seen Eric Bischoff tonight, or Triple H. Well… simply put… Eric Bischoff has been fired, our father has been committed because he's freaking insane and we've taken over the company."

Shane retook the microphone and held up the paper. "This right here is a decree from the Board of Directors that puts Stephanie and I back in full control of this company. You see, Dad seemed to forget that he trained us for this damn near since birth. He thought we'd never act on it. Well… sorry, Dad. Granted, Mom's a little upset that we had Dad tossed in the loony bin, but come on, people, admit it. You all know he's crazy."

Stephanie took the mic. "And he is crazy. The doctors said so. Thus, we've taken over, and now, we'd like to introduce you to your new Raw General Manager." The horns started to blow and everyone in the arena instantly rose. Ric Flair came out of the curtain and stood at the stage. He tossed a wave towards the ring and Stephanie laughed before handing the microphone back to her brother.

"That's right, folks! And don't bother asking Flair why he sold out because, well… has he ever given you an explanation?" He laughed and shook his head. "Seriously now, folks. Let's move this along. Triple H… Ah, yes… the Game. The number one man on this show. Well, he's now the number one asshole on Velocity. Now, that's enough business. It's time to party."

"And tonight," Stephanie said, leaning into the microphone, "we're going to put Coach in charge, because Ric has to come out and party. So, all of you in the locker room, I'd advise you to be nice, and when you're done being nice, practice your ass kissing. I'm sure you'll need it."

"Oh, and Smackdown?" Shane smirked. "Be ready, because we're on our way there on Thursday."

The microphone dropped.

The fans jumped to their feet.

And the Regime met the Nature Boy at the stage and went off to party.


End file.
